I Want Nothing Without You
by Myari
Summary: Sherlock is an Alpha that never wanted to take a mate, Beta or Omega it didn't matter he didn't want them. They would only distract him from The Work, if they staid long enough to view The Work. Sherlock hated people and people tended to hate him. At least until he met John.
1. Chapter 1

**I Want Nothing Without You**

 **Summary-**

Sherlock is an Alpha that never wanted to take a mate, Beta or Omega it didn't matter he didn't want them. They would only distract him from The Work, if they staid long enough to view The Work. Sherlock hated people and people tended to hate him. At least until he met John.

John, an Omega that was invalided home from war after being shot, never thought he would find an Alpha that could over look the fact that his womb was damaged. He never thought he would get his dream family. That is until he met a unique Alpha by the name of Sherlock.

 **Chapter One-**

John sighed looking at his military issued gun that sat on his desk. His hand twitched and he didn't know if it was from his wound or from the urge to use the gun on himself. John had been back in London for less than two months, and after being active in the war for years it was strange, almost unnatural. He would still have been at war if he hadn't been shot and been made invalid and sent home.

It was John's daily routine to wake up, use the loo, dress, and then pull out his gun and decide if he would be using it on himself today or not. With another sigh, John picked up his gun and began to dismantle and clean it. It wasn't his wound that had caused a trimmer in his hand that ruined his surgery career, nor was it the fact that he was no longer a soldier that caused him to decide every morning wither to eat a bullet or not. It was the fact that some how during the time between the snipper's bullet entered his shoulder to waking up after surgery his womb had been damaged to the point that the chances of him being able to conceive were next to none.

That news had shattered Johns hopes and dreams. Ever since John had presented as an Omega he had two dreams. The first one, being a Doctor in the military, had come true. But the second one that had sat on the back burner while he was a doctor in the military was to find his Alpha and start a family. And now, John closed his eyes to fight back his tears, now that would never happen.

Suddenly the four walls of his small one room apartment began to close in on him, and John needed to leave his apartment right then. As quickly as he could, John stood up and grabbed his cane before he limped out of his apartment, locked the door, and took a walk. As he walked he forced everything from his mind.

He knew that the way he was dealing with his emotions about everything that had happened to him was not healthy, his therapist constantly reminded him of that every time he was forced to see her. She wanted him to talk about it, but John couldn't. She wanted him to write about it, but every time John opened his laptop to try and begin writing, the walls around him would start closing in on him. John knew he needed to find away to help him deal with his loss, wither it be talking to someone who he could trust, writing it in a blog, or even being able to admit it to himself.

"John! John Watson!" Someone called out to him snapping him out of his thoughts, John looked around quickly noticing that he had somehow made his way to a park, before turning around to find a slightly over weight Beta walking up to him excitedly. The Beta looked familiar but John couldn't really put a name to the face. "Stamford, Mike Stamford." The Beta introduced. "We were at Barts together." It was then that John finally remembered the Beta.

Mike had been one of the few students that didn't seem to mind that he was an Omega, the only Omega, in their class. Had even stood up for him a few times when some of the other Betas and even a few Alphas had tried to bully him into quitting.

"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike, hello." John said shuffling his cane to his other hand to shake the hand Mike had offered him. John instantly noted the bonding ring on Mike's finger and tried to shove off the anger and resentment he suddenly felt. It wasn't Mike's fault that he was useless now.

"Yeah, I know, I got fat." Mike joked misreading the look in John's face.

"No, no." John said shaking his head while awkwardly looking around not wanting Mike to know the real meaning behind John's look.

"I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?" Mike asked. Annoyance flew through John, it was painfully obvious what had happened!

"I got shot." John said through clenched teeth and his response was Mike awkwardly looking away, and that eased the annoyance in John a little.

"Right, how about we get some coffee and catch up?" Mike asked unsure. John was torn, part of him wanted to be alone and mope about what had happened to him while the other half was afraid of what he would do to himself if he were alone.

"Sure." John sighed out and the two of them slowly limped towards a coffee stand, well John limped and Mike awkwardly walked slowly next to him. After ordering coffee, John set off to find the closest bench to have Mike stop pitying him. The silence between them was tense for a couple of minutes before John finally broke it, not being able to stand it any longer.

"Are you still at Barts then?" John asked and Mike seemed eager to talk about something that didn't seem be a touchy subject.

"Teaching now." Mike said with an awkward laugh. "Yeah, bright young things like we used to be. God, I hate them." He joked causing John to chuckle as he shifted his cane to rest more comfortably against his leg, drawing Mike's attention to it. "What about you, just staying in town till you get yourself sorted?"

"I can't afford London on an Army pension." John informed him trying to keep his eyes from drifting over to a young family walking in the park with their children. Something he would never get to do.

"And you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know." Mike said with a laugh.

"Yeah, I'm not that John Watson." John snapped. That John was useful, he could still conceive. The John he was now was broken. His hand began to twitch again and, trying not to draw attention to it, switched his cup to the other hand.

"Couldn't Harry help?" Mike asked.

"Yeah," John scoffed, "like that's gonna happen." Harry had her own problems to deal with, she didn't need to have to be forced to take in and look after her broken Omega brother.

"I don't know, get a flat share or something?" Mike suggested.

"Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?" John asked with a tight lipped smile. He was broken. Useless. No one, Alpha, Beta, or Omega, would want to share a flat with him. John looked at Mike like he had lost his mind when he began to laugh. "What?"

"You're the second person to say that to me today." Mike said still chuckling. That shocked John. There was someone else out there who was having trouble finding someone to live with? Were they just as broken as him? His curiosity had peeked enough that he couldn't stop himself from asking who it was. At that Mike smiled mischievously. "He's an unusual Alpha that claims to not want a mate, Omega or otherwise."

"Unusual how?" John asked.

"You'll have to meet him to find out." Mike said before cheeking his watch. "He should still be at Barts." With that said Mike stood up and began to walk in the direction of Barts. John sat there for a second or two before he forced himself to stand and follow Mike.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two-**

Sherlock prided himself on being able to control his baser instincts. He knew he could be in the presents of an Omega in heat and not succumb to the desire to mount them and mate them. He knew this because he had tested this. Sherlock had willingly entered a room with an Omega in heat, alone, and had absolutely no desire to mate with them. He had only done so to prove a point to his brother that he, in no way, desired a Mate.

Sherlock knew that if he, for some ungodly reason, ever did find himself with a Mate then that said Mate would distract him from The Work. He could not have that. His whole world revolved around The Work. It was the only thing, besides Cocaine, that kept his brain occupied. Without The Work, he would be bored. And a bored Sherlock was a disaster in itself. Last time he was board, he nearly burnt a whole block down.

Sherlock swept through the halls of Barts, ignoring all the looks he was receiving from everyone, and threw the doors to the morgue open. He smiled darkly when he saw the black body bag waiting on the examining table where Molly, a Beta, had left it for him. Molly, who had heard him come in, came running into the room. She meet him at the table, him on one side and her on the other.

"Hello Sherlock, I hope this one is more acceptable than the last one." She said quietly. Her only response was Sherlock unzipping the body bag.

"How fresh?" He asked never looking away from the body.

"Just in." Molly told him eager to please him. "67, natural causes. Used to work here. I knew him, he was nice." Sherlock zipped the body bag back up before straightening up. This body would do.

"Fine. We'll start with the riding crop." Sherlock informed her and she rushed to grab the ridding crop he had brought in earlier that day. Sherlock quickly shed his jacket, took the riding crop from her and began to whip it as hard as he could. After a good long five minutes of him whipping the dead body, he stopped and took a few deep breaths to reign in his adrenaline. The Work always gave him a high that no amount of drugs could ever give him.

"So, bad day was it?" Molly asked with an awkward chuckle to hide the fear watching him whip the body had given her. Sherlock ignored her and took out his trusty notebook and began to write his observations about the body and the whipping down.

"I need to know what bruises form in the next 20 minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me." Sherlock told her barely looking at her.

"Listen, I was wondering. Maybe later, when you're finished..." Molly started and Sherlock had to bite back a growl at her. She wanted to go on a date to try and start the bonding that would lead to mating, he needed to put a stop to this. He glanced at her to deduce anything he could that would stop her from wanting to be with him.

"You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before." He noted catching her off guard.

"I, uh... I refreshed it a bit." Molly told him shyly as hope shined in her eyes. She had put it on in hopes to catch his attention, and she had thought it had worked.

"Sorry, you were saying?" Sherlock asked looking away and saw her deflate just a bit.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee?" Molly asked.

"Black, two sugars, please." Sherlock snapping his notebook closed to look at Molly dejected face and knew he had stopped her silly little idea of a date. "I'll be upstairs."

 **~Two~**

Sherlock was in the middle of testing some blood when a knock sounded on the door of the lab he had commandeered. He ignored it knowing that the person on the other side would get the message and leave. He knew it wasn't Molly with his coffee, she wouldn't have knocked. He nearly growled when a Beta and Omega walked into his lab as if they owned it.

Sherlock glanced at the two and realized that the Beta was Mike. Apparently he had found a flatmate for him after all. His attention then turned to the Omega as he limped in. The Omega staid standing. Psychosomatic. The Omega automatically fell into parade rest. Military. Sherlock turned his attention away from the Omega to continue The Work. Tan face. Had been in the sun a lot. Recently returned to London. Wounded in action.

"Bit different from my day." The Omega muttered as he looked around the room. Doctor. That pipped Sherlock's interest. It wasn't everyday that an Omega became a Doctor much less a military doctor.

"Oh, you've no idea!" Mike responded to the Omega.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." Sherlock said after getting the results from his test.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked in annoyance.

"I prefer to text." Sherlock told him.

"Sorry, it's in my coat." Mike told him and Sherlock bit the urge to snarl at him and roll his eyes. Useless.

"Uh, here, use mine." The Omega offered before digging his phone out of his pocket.

"Oh, thank you." Sherlock said receiving a slightly shocked look from Mike. Sherlock ignored the look and got up. As he got closer to the Omega, Sherlock took a slight whiff of his scent and noted the 'Broken' smell coming from him. Something happened to this Omega that had caused him to become 'useless' to normal Alphas, something to do with either his heat cycle or his womb. If Sherlock had been a normal Alpha with a desire to find a Mate and reproduce, that scent would have put him off but as it was it didn't bother Sherlock one bit.

"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike introduced. Sherlock carefully took the phone from John instantly noticing the tan did not go past his wrist and began to send his text.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asked obviously shocking John as Mike shot the Omega a smirk.

"Sorry?" John asked.

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock repeated turning to look John in his eyes. Blue with a speck of green. John quickly looked away from him to glare at Mike.

"Afghanistan." John said as Molly entered with his coffee. "Sorry, how did you know..."

"Ah, Molly! Coffee, thank you." Sherlock interrupted, bored of John's question, and handed the Omega his phone back while turning to take the coffee from Molly. She had removed her lipstick. "What happened to the lipstick?"

"It wasn't working for me." Molly said awkwardly after glancing at John and taking a half step away from him sensing his 'wrongness'. His womb then.

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." He told her in hopes that it would keep her from wanting to date him as he went back to The Work while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Okay." Molly breathed out, a hairs breath from crying, before she quickly left the room. There was a slight twinge of guilt at that. Molly, though Beta, was a lovely girl and one of the few people Sherlock could stand to be around for longer than a few minutes, she was also one of those few people that stood by Sherlock even after knowing him.

"How do you feel about the violin?" Sherlock said turning his attentions back to John, his new flatmate.

"I'm sorry, what?" John asked after he realized Sherlock was speaking to him once more.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end." Sherlock informed the obviously very confused Omega. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other." He watched in slight amusement as the Omega took in everything that Sherlock had told him before his eyes began to shift between him and Mike.

"You told him about me?" John asked accusingly.

"Not a word." Mike said smirking at John. It would seem he had just proved a point Mike had made to the Omega earlier.

"Who said anything about flatmates?" John said trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. Everyone who met Sherlock for the first time went through this stage. The next stage would be anger. And the third and final stage was calling him a 'freak' and storming out of the flat. Sherlock did hope that John lasted longer than a couple of days, he seemed quite interesting.

"I did." Sherlock said as he gathered his jacket. "I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for." He said slipping on his jacket. "Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap." He told John while putting on his scarf.

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" John asked in half guarded, half broken voice. He damaged his womb there. A touchy subject. Stay away from it.

"Got my eye on a nice little place in Central London. Together we ought to be able afford it." Sherlock informed John. "We'll meet there tomorrow evening, 7:00." He ordered and John opened his mouth to question him some more. "Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary."

"Is that it?" John demanded and the tone of his voice caused Sherlock to stop. Had he not known John was an Omega, he would have thought he was an Alpha with that tone. John was becoming more interesting by the moment.

"Is that what?" Sherlock challenged wanting to see how John would react to an Alpha's challenge. Most Omega's would instantly back down and cower away, but John just squared his shoulders and raised his chin in defiance to either his own biology or to Sherlock's challenge he didn't know. But it interested him.

"We've only just met and we're going to look at a flat?" John asked.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked causing John to lightly laugh, and from the shock in his eyes, he could tell that it had been quite a while since he had actually laughed. Sherlock usually found laughter to be annoying, that was probably because it was directed at him, but Sherlock found John's laughter to be pleasant. It was airy and light, almost like his scent.

"We don't know a thing about each other." John said with a small smile, he was gaining entertainment from this. "I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name."

And though Sherlock had wanted to hold this off for a couple of days, he didn't want to run John off that quick. Why he didn't know, but he figured it had to do with how interesting John was turning out to be. But if John was going to be his flatmate then he needed to know who he was sharing the flat with.

"I know you're an Army doctor. And you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help 'cause you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic and more likely because he recently walked out on his Mate." John's eyes widen slightly at that. "And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid." John shifted uncomfortably as if just remembering his bad leg. "That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" Sherlock asked stopping himself from mentioning the damaged womb having a feeling his flatmate wouldn't like that. It kind of shocked him that the thought of John being upset with him actually caused him to stop deducing John, usually how people felt about his deductions didn't matter to him.

Sherlock quickly made his way to the door so he could leave before John could tell him to piss off like all the others did. He opened the door and was half way out of the room before he remembered John had initially wanted his name and the address. "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street." And with a wink, Sherlock flew out of the room and back towards the morgue.


	3. Chapter 3

**For anyone who wishes: I have created a Discord page for this story: Without You. If you cannot find the page you can friend me and I will send you an invite, my Discord name is: MyariRose #1920. If you have any question I will gladly answer them there. If you just want to talk, I will be happy to talk. I will be posting updates about the story on the discord page and may every now and then slip in a sneak peek. I do hope to see you there.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three-**

After meeting the whirlwind Alpha named Sherlock, John had been in a slight daze for the rest of the day. The Alpha hadn't backed away from him after getting close enough to smell how broken he was, like everyone did, like the Beta (Molly) who had brought Sherlock his coffee had. And apparently just from looking at him, Sherlock had known everything about him. It fascinated him to the point that when he had finally made it home he had to look the Alpha up.

The night quickly flew by with John up half the night reading Sherlock's blog that he found. And was shocked when he woke up and left the apartment without contemplating taking his life or not. One meeting with Sherlock and he wanted to live. This made John want to meet the Alpha and get to know him, and not in the 'I want to mate with you' kind of way. He respected Sherlock's wish to not want a Mate, he wanted to be friends with the guy.

By the time 7:00 pm rolled around, John had to stop himself from rushing out of his apartment and hurting himself. He decided to walk to the address instead of taking a taxi to help elevate his excited nerves. No need to get Sherlock thinking John wanted to mate with him. As he finally came upon the address, a taxi pulled up and Sherlock bounded out of it as John knocked on the door.

"Hello." Sherlock called as he paid the taxi.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes." John said hoping he didn't sound too happy to see the man.

"Sherlock, please." The Alpha said holding out his hand for John to shake, which he did.

"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive." John noted worried about how much Sherlock expected him to pay.

"Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady, she's given me a special deal. Owes me a favour." Sherlock said nonchalantly. "Few years back, her Mate got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."

"Sorry, you stopped her Mate being executed?" John asked in shock, just what did this man do?

"Oh, no, I ensured it." Sherlock corrected proudly causing John to laugh in amazement as the door finally opened to an elderly Omega woman.

"Sherlock!" The Omega said before hugging the Alpha in a motherly way.

"Mrs Hudson, Dr. John Watson." Sherlock introduced and she hugged him just as motherly as she did Sherlock, not bothered at all by his scent. This caused John to relax a little. Since his womb had been damaged no one seemed to treat him the same, they either treated him with pity or as if being near him would cause defect to them. And yet, here were two people who didn't seemed to mind him being broken and treated him as if he weren't. It nearly brought him to tears.

"Hello, dear. Come in." Mrs Hudson said pulling from her hug and stepping aside.

"Hello. Thank you." John said stepping in as Sherlock followed him.

"Shall we?" He asked carefully maneuvering around John to head up the stairs with John slowly limping after him. Part of him was shocked to find Sherlock waiting for him at the top instead of already in the flat. It was almost as if the Alpha was making sure John could actually make it up the stairs. Once he was at the top, Sherlock nodded and opened the door to allow John to see a cluttered mess.

"Well this could be very nice." John said with a nod as he began to hobble around the living room taking everything in. "Very nice indeed."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed proudly. "Yes, I think so, my thoughts precisely."

"Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out." John said just as Sherlock said:

"So I went straight ahead and moved in." John felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh." John muttered as Sherlock shot from his place beside him and began to try and rearrange some things. "So this is all...?" John stuttered out.

"Well, obviously I can, um," Sherlock awkwardly cleared his throat, "straighten things up a bit."

"That's a skull." John said noticing the scull on the mantel after the Alpha had moved over there while 'straightening up' and stabbed a knife into the mantel.

"Friend of mine." Sherlock stated and John didn't know if he was joking or not. He really hope he was, but from the look in the Alpha's eyes John could see he wasn't. "When I say friend..."

"What do you think, then, Dr. Watson?" Mrs Hudson asked. "There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms." She mentioned as Sherlock took off his coat and scarf.

"Of course we'll be needing two." John said slightly confused. He was only going to be Sherlock's flatmate. John was pretty sure Mike had told him that Sherlock wasn't looking for a Mate, and well, John was broken and no Alpha would want him any way. John angrily pushed that thought from his mind as his hand began to twitch.

"Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts round here." Mrs Hudson told him soothingly. All sorts of what? There couldn't be many broken Omega's, could there? "Mrs Turner next door's got Bonded ones." John stiffened at that. If Alpha's and Beta's couldn't even stand to be near him to want to mate with him what made her think anyone wanted to Bond with him? He staid frozen as she went into the kitchen. "Oh. Sherlock, the mess you've made."

John finally shook himself out of his stupor and moved to sit down. His leg was suddenly bothering him and he needed to sit and rest it. "I looked you up on the Internet last night." John informed Sherlock who spun around to look at him with barely hidden excitement.

"Anything interesting?" The Alpha asked trying not to sound eager causing John to bite back a smile.

"Found your website. The Science of Deduction." John said and saw a smile flash onto Sherlock's face before the Alpha began to fight it. He couldn't help smiling at how cute Sherlock was, almost like a small child showing his parents a project he had work hard on all by himself.

"What did you think?" Sherlock asked running his eyes over John's face as he remembered what he had read the night before. And whatever Sherlock had seen on John face caused the Alpha's excitement to fade.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb?" John questioned.

"Yes." Sherlock said suddenly sounding defensive. "And I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits on your mobile phone."

"How?" John asked.

"What about these suicides then, Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson said carrying a news paper into the room as Sherlock looked out the window. "Thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."

"Four." Sherlock corrected her confusing John. Unless Sherlock knew of one that hadn't been made public, John was pretty damn sure there was only three. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time." He continued as John heard a car door slam.

"A fourth?" Mrs Hudson asked as someone ran up the stairs and into their flat. A Bonded Alpha with short graying hair.

"Where?" Sherlock asked the Alpha before he could catch his breath and say anything.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." The Alpha panted out.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different." Sherlock demanded.

"You know how they never leave notes?" The Alpha asked.

"Yeah." Sherlock said his eyes narrowing.

"This one did. Will you come?" The Alpha asked.

"Who's on Forensics?" Sherlock asked.

"It's Anderson." The Alpha said causing Sherlock to growl.

"Anderson won't work with me." Sherlock said looking away confusing John on what was going on.

"Well, he won't be your assistant." The Alpha told Sherlock in annoyance.

"I need an assistant." Sherlock half whined half growled out.

"Will you come?" The Alpha asked again.

"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind." Sherlock finally answered.

"Thank you." The Alpha said before leaving as John sat there trying to figure out what was going on, who that Alpha had been, how Sherlock was connected to him, and why was he needed at the crime scene? He jumped in slight shock as Sherlock suddenly cried out in joy.

"Brilliant! Yes! Ah! Four serial suicides, and now a note." Sherlock said excitedly as he danced around the room. Who was this Alpha and why was he so excited over this news? "Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." He told Mrs Hudson as began to put his jacket on.

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs Hudson told Sherlock who just seemed to ignore her.

"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" He ordered before running out the door.

"Look at him, dashing about..." Mrs Hudson muttered before shaking her head and turning to look at John who was fighting the urge to get up and follow Sherlock. He was curious about what was going on while at the same time he wanted Sherlock to know that he wasn't one to be bossed around. "My Mate was just the same. But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell." John saw her eyes flash to his cane and annoyance rose in him. If only he didn't have this damn limp. "I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg."

"Dam my leg!" John growled out loudly scaring Mrs Hudson and causing guilt to take the place of his annoyance. "Sorry, I'm so sorry." He told her honestly. "It's just sometimes this bloody thing..."

"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." Mrs Hudson told him sympathetically.

"Cup of tea would be lovely." John called to her as she began to leave while picking up the news paper she had left on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. "Thank you."

"Just this once, dear, I'm not your housekeeper." She reminded him.

"Couple of biscuits too, if you got 'em." He called back with a small smirk wanting to see how far he could push it as he began to read the paper.

"Not your housekeeper!" She told him sternly as he saw the picture of the Alpha that had just been in their flat. A Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"You're a doctor." Sherlock suddenly said causing John to jump in shock not hearing him come back in. "In fact, you're an Army doctor."

"Yes." John said standing up having a feeling he knew where Sherlock was going with this.

"Any good?" Sherlock asked.

"Very good." John said having the sudden need to impress Sherlock so that he would bring John with him to the Crime scene, and once at the Crime scene he could prove his usefulness to the Alpha.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths." Sherlock stated walking closer to John as a sort of tension began to fill the air. John couldn't identify what sort of tension it was, almost like it was a multitude of them strung together. And it was exciting.

"Yes." John said never taking his eyes off the Alpha that stalked closer to him.

"Bit of trouble too, I bet?" Sherlock asked still coming closer.

"Of course. Yes. Enough for a life time, far too much." Sherlock finally stopped with his chest nearly touching John's, and for a split second, John wondered if the Alpha was going to either scent him, kiss him, or both.

"Want to see some more?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, God, yes." John breathed out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four-**

John followed Sherlock out of their flat and down the stairs. "Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."

"Both of you?" Mrs Hudson asked in concern causing Sherlock to pause at the door before swiftly spinning on the balls of his feet to look at her with excitement in his eyes.

"Impossible suicides? Four of them?" Sherlock asked making his way towards her. "There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" He told her excitedly before kissing her cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." Mrs Hudson told him with a small smirk.

"Who cares about decent?" Sherlock playfully growled out. "The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" He said walking outside with John right on his heels and hailed a taxi, getting one instantly, before getting in with John sliding in after him. Sherlock quickly raddled off the address and they were off.

John stared out the window watching the scenery pass them by as the sun sat while Sherlock typed away at his phone. John knew that if he was to get any of his questions answered, now would be a good time to do so before they got to the crime scene. John looked at Sherlock and opened his mouth only to sigh and close his mouth again. He didn't know if he would be bothering Sherlock with his questions or not. John shook his head and looked out the window only to have the Alpha sigh in annoyance.

"If you have questions, John, ask them." Sherlock growled out, shocked and a little startled that Sherlock had even noticed when he had been glued to his phone caused John to say the first thing to come to mind.

"Where are we going?"

"Crime scene. Next?" Sherlock said.

"Who are you? What do you do?" John asked.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked. Was this a test?

"I'd say private detective."

"But?" Sherlock said.

"But the police don't go to private detectives." That caused the Alpha to smile at him.

"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world, I invented the job." Sherlock bragged.

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"Means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." Sherlock told him.

"But the police don't consult amateurs." John said causing Sherlock to smirk at him, and with a jolt he realized that Sherlock was telling him with that one smirk that he was no amateur.

"When I met you for the first time yesterday I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."

"Yes, how did you know?" John asked, that was one question that was bugging him, that and how he knew about Harry.

"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. And your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Barts, so Army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's really bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic, wounded in action then. Wounded in action, sun tan... Afghanistan or Iraq." Sherlock finished.

"You said I had a therapist." John whispered not wanting to break the heated tension that had settled over them once more.

"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist. Then there's your brother." Sherlock said suddenly reaching into John's pocket and fished out his phone. "Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. And your looking for a flatshare. You wouldn't waist money on this. It's a gift, then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already." He said turning the phone over to show the engraving on the back.

"The engraving?" John asked.

"'Harry Watson.' Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to. So brother it is. Now, Clara, who's Clara?" Sherlock asked looking back at the engraving. "Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says Mate, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently. This model's only six months old. Bond is in trouble then, six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do. Sentiment." He said growling the last word.

"No, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you. That says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're not going to your brother for help. That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you like his Mate. Maybe you don't like his drinking."

"How can you possibly know about the drinking?" John asked in amazement.

"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection, tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunks' without them." He said finally handing John his phone back. "There you go. See you were right."

"I was right?" John asked slightly out of breath. "Right about what?"

"The police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock said looking away sadly.

"That was amazing." John said slowly and honestly. With one look this Alpha was able to see everything about him. He knew he should be annoyed or even angry, but he wasn't, he was actually impressed and wished to see him do it again. His response seemed to come as a shock to Sherlock.

"You think so?" Sherlock asked reminding John of a shy little boy.

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary." John told him earnestly while looking him in the eye to let Sherlock see for himself that he was telling the truth. After reading him like a book, Sherlock smiled warmly at him.

"That's not what people normally say." Sherlock told him quietly shocking John.

"What do they say?" John asked.

"'Piss off.'" The Alpha growled out as they pulled up to the crime scene. And though John had known it was a crime scene when he followed Sherlock into the taxi, seeing the tape and multiple police officers still shocked John. He knew he had taken too long to exit the taxi when Sherlock suddenly leaned over him and open the door. When Sherlock gently nudged his side, John quickly exited the taxi and stepped aside to allow Sherlock to follow him. "Did I get anything wrong?" The Alpha asked him as he fixed his gloves looking around the crime scene. It took John a second to realize what he had been asked.

"Harry and me don't get on, never have." John informed Sherlock as they made their way to the crime scene. Him and Harry had never seen eye to eye, even before she presented as an Alpha and him as an Omega. And it didn't help when John presented as an Omega and Harry tried to dominate him like the Alpha she was and he put her on her ass. "Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce, and Harry is a drinker." He confirmed and didn't have to look at the Alpha to know he was smirking.

"Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything." Sherlock said.

"Harry's short for Harriet." John told him causing the Alpha to stop walking in shock.

"Harry's your sister." The Alpha stated.

"So, what exactly am I going to be doing here?" John asked trying not to laugh at the annoyed look on Sherlock's face from that tidbit he had just told him.

"Sister!" The Alpha hissed out storming past John and over to the tape. "There's always something." He pouted as a young, black Beta glared at Sherlock when they got close enough.

"Hello, freak!" She said crossing her arms.

"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Sherlock told her.

"Why?" The Beta question defensively as Sherlock slowly turned to glare at her.

"I was invited." He informed her simply.

"Why?" She growled out.

"I think he wants me to take a look." Sherlock taunted her.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" The Beta said.

"Always, Sally." Sherlock growled out in annoyance, voice dripping with sarcasm as he slipped under the tape, taking a deep breath as he did so. Whatever he had just smelled coming from the Beta was enough to cause him to pause and crinkle his nose in disgust. "I even know you didn't make it home last night." Sherlock told her as he held up the tape for John to slip under. As John tried to do so, the Beta (Sally) stopped him with a growl. John just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, because really, that was the best she could do? He had heard more threatening growls from kittens.

"Who's this?" Sally demanded.

"Colleague of mine, Dr Watson." Sherlock said grabbing John's wrist and gently pulled him under the tape. "Dr Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend." Sherlock introduced, hissing out the last two words in a way that John knew was a lie even without the glare Donovan had sent him.

"A _colleague_?" Donovan question and John was really starting to hate her. "How do _you_ get a _colleague_? Wait." Donovan turned her attention to John. "Did he follow you home?" She question.

"No, actually, I followed him home." John snapped harshly causing Donovan to flinch back, obviously not expecting a broken Omega like him to snap like that. Omegas were usually docile creatures that 'needed to be taken care of'. And though John did want an Alpha, he didn't want to be tucked away at home and 'taken care of'. The proud smirk he received from Sherlock made the shocked and slightly pissed look on Donovan's face so much sweeter.

"Freak's here. Bringing him in." She growled into her walkie as she and Sherlock lead him into the abandoned building that was their crime scene. On their way inside, John watched Sherlock look at everything and wondered what he was seeing, what stories was he being told? When they were right in front of the door, another Beta step out and blocked their way. This one was a scrawny looking male in a blue forensics suit. When he saw Sherlock his lips puckered as if he had just took a bite of a lemon.

"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again." Sherlock growled out. So this was the man that wouldn't work with Sherlock as his assistant?

"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson hissed out in a weak attempt of an order.

"Quite clear." Sherlock growled back in a challenge. "And is your Mate away for long?"

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that." Anderson hissed.

"Your deodorant told me that." Sherlock said.

"My deodorant?" Anderson asked confused.

"It's for men." Sherlock informed the Beta who rolled his eyes.

"Well, of course it's for men. I'm wearing it!" Anderson cried.

"So's Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock pointed out causing Donovan to look scandalized while Anderson whipped around to look at her in shock and was that fear? "Ooh... I think it just vaporized." Sherlock said while taking a deep breath. "May we go in?"

"Now look, whatever you're trying to imply..." Anderson started threateningly.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat," Sherlock said gently taking a hold of John's wrist again and began to lead him around Anderson, John saw him glance at Sally's knees, "and just happened to stay over." Sherlock paused just inside the door, he gently pushed John further into the building before addressing the two Betas again. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees." With that said, Sherlock closed the door and walked passed John and further into the house.

"You'll need to wear one of these." He ordered motioning to a forensic suit laying on a table next to Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"Who's this?" The Inspector asked as John picked up the suit.

"He's with me." Sherlock said.

"But who is he?" The Inspector asked again causing Sherlock to growl at him.

"I said he's with me." Thankfully the Inspector left it at that.

"Aren't you going to put one on?" John asked as he began to put on the suit noticing that Sherlock didn't grab one. The Alpha gave John a hard look silently telling him that was a stupid question.

"So where are we?" Sherlock asked looking away from John once he was sure he would not ask anymore stupid question.

"Upstairs." The Inspector told him. After both Alpha's waited for John to finish putting on the suit, they began to walk away. John followed after them as quick as he could limp and nearly screamed in annoyance when they began heading up three flights of stairs. "I can give you two minutes."

"May need longer." Sherlock told him, and was John imagining things or had Sherlock just slowed down when he had begun struggling?

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her." The Inspector informed them as Sherlock glanced back at John who smiled silently letting him know he was fine. Once they had got to the room where the victim was, John was shocked to see an Omega woman dressed in nothing but pink. It was almost like looking at a bottle of pepto in human form. Sherlock wasted no time in beginning to examine the body.

"Shut up." He growled out at Lestrade.

"I didn't say anything." Lestrade said.

"You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock growled out. He stared at the body for a couple of seconds before kneeling down and rubbed a hand across the woman's back and examined his fingers. Sherlock quickly searched the woman and pulled out a white umbrella from her left pocket. He checked the collar of her jacket before pulling out a magnifying glass and began checking her left wrist and hand. John tilted his head in slight confusion when Sherlock took off the woman's Bonding ring and began to examine it before slipping it back on to her finger.

"Got anything?" The Inspector asked as Sherlock began to take off his gloves.

"Not much." He said standing up.

"She's German." Anderson announced from the door way as Sherlock began to dig in the inside pocket of his jacket before pulling out his phone. " _Rache_. It's German for 'revenge'." Anderson said as Sherlock walked over towards the door. "She could be trying to tell us something..."

"Yes, thank you for your input." Sherlock said slamming the door closed in Anderson's face.

"So she's German?" The Inspector asked.

"Of course she's not." Sherlock growled out in annoyance as he began to look something up on his phone. "She's from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff." He said putting his phone away. "So far, so obvious."

"Maybe to you." John said with a playful smirk.

"What about the message, though?" The Inspector asked.

"Dr Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked softly.

"Of the message?" John asked in confusion. If it wasn't German for revenge, then maybe it was Rachel.

"Of the body. You're a medical man." Sherlock said nodded towards the body.

"Hold on, we have a whole team right outside." The Inspector said sounding slightly offended.

"They won't work with me." Sherlock told him.

"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here..." The Inspector started.

"Yes, because you need me." Sherlock said in a tone that stated this was then end of that discussion. The Inspector sighed in resigned annoyance before leaving the room. John sighed and hobbled over to the body before using his cane to ease down to the floor. Once he was safely on the floor, Sherlock, who had been hovering slightly, knelt beside him.

John went into Doctor mode. He took a deep breath and noticed that she was not actually an Omega, but a Beta hiding her scent and using Omega based products to smell like one. But other than that there was no other smells. He glanced up at Sherlock who was watching him. Was this a test? It was obvious that this woman had taken poison, she was the fourth suicide victim. John checked her skin and noticed no discolorization. If this was a test, what was he supposed to find that hadn't already been mention in the papers? After checking everything he could think of, John looked over at Sherlock.

"Well?" Sherlock asked.

"Right, so she's not an actual Omega. She's taking suppressants to hide her Beta scent and using Omega based products to make herself smell like an Omega. Why I am unsure of. It's obvious she's taken poison, but anyone who's read the news papers could tell that. She died of Asphyxiation, due to the poison, again obvious. There is no scent of Alcohol or anything other than rain and her false Omega scent that is fading to allow her natural Beta scent to come out. It's clearly been 24 hours since she has last taken her suppressants." John trailed off at the intense look he was receiving from Sherlock, had he said something wrong?

"Sherlock, two minutes, I said, I need anything you got." The Inspector demanded shocking John who hadn't realized he had come back in.

"Victim is in her late 30's, and as John just clearly stated, is pretending to be an Omega. Professional person, going by her clothes." Sherlock said gently grabbing John's upper arm and helped him stand up as he stood up. "I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today intending to stay in London one night." Sherlock began to look around the room for something. "It's obvious from the size of her suitcase."

"Suitcase?" The Inspector asked.

"Suitcase, yes. She's been Bonded at least 10 years, but not happily. She's had a string of lover but none of them knew she was both Bonded and a Beta." Sherlock said still looking around the room making John wonder what he was looking for or at.

"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up..." The Inspector growl out threateningly.

"Her Bonding ring." Sherlock growled at the challenge the Inspector had issued. "Ten years old at least." He made his way back to the body and knelt in front of her head. "The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her Bonding ring. State of her bond right there." He pointed out before standing back up. "The inside is shinier than the outside. That means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not her work, look at her nails." John did. "She doesn't work with her hands so what or rather who does she remove her rings for?" John looked at Sherlock in amazement that he got all that from her Bonding ring. "Clearly not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single and an Omega over that amount of time, so more likely a sting of them. Simple."

"That's brilliant." John breathed out not even realizing he has said something until Sherlock was looking at him shocked. "Sorry." He muttered in embarrassment.

"Cardiff?" The Inspector asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.

"Not to me." John said shaking his head.

"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains, it must be so boring." Sherlock muttered. "Her coat. It's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left hand pocket but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must have come a decent distance, but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried." Sherlock reached into the inside pocket of his jacket once more and pulled out his phone. "So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" He unlocked his phone and held it up for the Inspector to see whatever was on the screen. "Cardiff."

"Fantastic." John breathed out, once again not realizing he has said anything, causing a light dusting of pink to appear on Sherlock's face when he turned to look at him before moving over to him.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" He asked bending down just enough to whisper in John's ear causing him to blush.

"Sorry, I'll shut up." He told the Alpha quietly.

"No, it... fine." Sherlock told him giving John an odd look, and John felt as if Sherlock was once again about to scent him, kiss him, or both and he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" The Inspector asked cutting into their strange little moment causing Sherlock to jolt back as if he had been shocked.

"Yes, where is it?" Sherlock demanded and began to look around the room once more. "She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is."

"She was writing Rachel?" The Inspector asked and even John was shocked that he hadn't figured that one out.

"No, she was leaving an angry note in German." Sherlock snapped out causing John to bite back a laugh. "Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. Question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"

"How do you know she had a suitcase?" The Inspector demanded.

"Back of the right leg." Sherlock said pointing to the leg. "Tiny splash marks on the right heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious, could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying one night. Where is it, what have you done with it?"

"There wasn't a case." The Inspector told Sherlock who had knelt down to examine the woman again. This news caused Sherlock to shoot back up with an excited look in his eyes.

"Say that again." Sherlock ordered.

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." The Inspector told him and Sherlock was out the door.

"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" He called running down the stairs.

"Sherlock, there's no case!" The Inspector called back to him as John limped out of the room to find Sherlock stopped on the stairs.

"But they take the poison themselves. They chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs, even you lot can't miss them." Sherlock said before continuing down the stairs.

"Right, yeah, thanks. And?" The Inspector asked impatiently causing Sherlock to stop again.

"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how. But they're not suicides. They're killings, serial killings." Sherlock said before looking like a little boy about to open his presents on Christmas day and continued down the stairs. "We've got a serial killer. Love those. There's always something to look forward to."

"Why are you saying that?" The Inspector asked.

"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here, and they took her case." Sherlock said before looking as if he figured something out. "So the killer must have driven her here. Forgot the case was in the car."

"She could have left it at a hotel." John suggested.

"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking..." Sherlock had figured something else out. "Oh... Oh!"

"Sherlock?" John asked curious as to what he had just realized.

"What is it, what?" The Inspector asked.

"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake." Sherlock said with a smirk.

"We can't just wait!" The Inspector yelled.

"Oh, we're done waiting. Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock ordered getting to the ground floor.

"Of course, yeah, but what mistake?" The Inspector demanded.

"Pink!" Sherlock yelled before finally leaving. It took John a second to understand what he meant. Were they looking for a pink suitcase?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five-**

By the time John had made it down the stairs and had taken the suit off, it was clear the Sherlock was long gone when he looked for him as he limped out of the house. John shook his head and gave a small laugh, Sherlock was just like an over excited boy forgetting everything else besides his new toy. It was adorable. John began to limp towards the tape intending to find a taxi and get home to wait for Sherlock to get back.

"He's gone." Donovan told him with pity in her voice.

"Who, Sherlock Holmes? Yeah, I can see that." John told her.

"He just took off. He does that." The Beta told him.

"I'm guessing he won't be back." John said in understanding.

"Didn't look like it." She told him with a smirk, looking as if Sherlock had just proven a point. John rolled his eyes and walked past her and under the tape and began to walk away looking for any taxi he could hail. "You're not his friend." Donovan called out to him making him stop. "He doesn't have friends." John turn to glare at him. "So who are you?"

"I'm his friend." John growled at her causing her to roll her eyes.

"A bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy." Donovan told him.

"Why, because you don't like him?" John snapped, this woman was asking to get punched. He might not have known Sherlock very long, but he could tell that the Alpha was a decent guy, a bit eccentric and probably slightly childish, but still a decent guy.

"You know why he's here?" Donovan asked with a condescending look. "He's not paid or anything. He _likes_ it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one that put it there."

"And why would he do that?" John asked quietly.

"Because he's a psychopath." Donovan told him. "Psychopaths get bored."

"Donovan!" The Inspector called her.

"Coming!" She called back. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes." She told him before jogging into the house. John staid standing there trying to wrap his mind around what the Beta had just told him. Should he believe her or not? It was clear that the Beta hated Sherlock with a passion, as did Anderson. But the Detective Inspector really wouldn't have allowed Sherlock into the crime scene if he wasn't a decent person. He would stay by Sherlock and decide for himself if he wanted to stay with him or not.

With his mind made up, John turned and began to limp down the street walking past a ringing phone booth. He ignored it and walked to the main street where he began to try and hail a taxi, it wasn't until the phone in the restaurant next to him rang and hung up before and employee could answer that John began to feel as if he were being watched. Cautiously, John continued walking until he passed by yet another ringing phone booth. Hesitating, John slowly entered the phone booth and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"There is a security camera on the building to your left." A man said over the phone. "Do you see it?"

"Who's this? Who's speaking?" John asked wondering if the person had mistaken him for someone else.

"Do you see the camera, Dr Watson?" The man asked again, letting John know the man knew exactly who he was talking to. John looked around and spotted the camera the man was talking about.

"Yeah, I see it." John said.

"Watch..." The man said and the camera turned away from him. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" John instantly searched the camera out. Someone was either playing with him or trying to prove a point. The second John has spotted the camera, it too was moved to point away from him. "And finally, at the top of the building on your right." John turned around and spotted the camera just before it, too, was turned. He got the point. Who ever was on the other end of the phone had connections, powerful connections.

"I get your message." John told him.

"Get into the car, Dr Watson." The man said before hanging up as a black car with tented windows pulled up in front of him and a man got out and opened the door. John sighed and limped out of the phone booth and into the car where a woman with shoulder length curly brown hair sat typing away on a blackberry. John took a deep breath to get her scent, but she was smart enough to be using scent blockers and odorless products to cover her scent. John couldn't even tell if she was an Alpha, Beta, or an Omega. Once he was in the car, the man shut the door before taking off.

"Hello." John said to the woman honestly not expecting her to replay.

"Hi." She said looking up from her blackberry to glance at him before going back to her blackberry.

"What's your name then?" John asked curious to see if she'll give out her real name or not.

"Uh... Anthea." She said, obviously a fake name.

"That's not your real name, is it." John said with a smirk receiving one back from 'Anthea'.

"No." She said.

"I'm sure you know my name." John said sitting back.

"Yes, John." Anthea said with a smirk, proving him right.

"I'm guessing there's no point in asking where I'm going." John said.

"I can see why he's interested in you." Anthea said making John wonder who was interested in him. The mysterious phone caller?

"Okay." John said knowing that none of the questions he had piling up would be answered. The drive to where ever they were going was a good 15 to 20 minutes long, and when they pulled into what seemed to be a recently abandoned factory (or maybe this mysterious phone caller was just that powerful to have a factory emptied out for tonight), John military training kicked in. As soon as he was allowed out of the car, John's eyes focused on the nicely dress man standing in front of the car while casually leaning on an umbrella. Was he about to finally meet the Mysterious caller? John squared his shoulders and limped over to the man.

"Have a seat, John." The man said pointing towards a chair that was waiting for him. John ignored the man's request (order) and remained standing, he would rather not allow the man the upper hand.

"You know, I've got a phone." John told the man who, after taking a deep breath, John realized was also hiding his scent. "I mean, very clever and all that, but uh... You could just phone me. On my phone."

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place." The man said and John scoffed. Right, very discreet. "Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down." The man ordered.

"I'd rather stand, thank you." John told him in mock politeness.

"You don't seem very afraid." The man pointed out with a smirk.

"Should I be? You don't seem very frightening." John challenged causing the man to give a small laugh.

"Yes." The man drawled out in a slight purr, John's hackles rose when he caught the mockery undertone. "The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think? What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

"There is no connection. I just met him yesterday." John said.

"Yet, since yesterday you've moved in with him and now you're solving crimes together." The man said giving him a hard look as he checked him up and down. "Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" John grip on his cane tightened as he fought the urge to hit the man with it. How dare the man insinuate that John was trying to force Sherlock into mating him! He was broken and useless, and Sherlock was not looking for a Mate!

"Who are you?" John growled out.

"An interested party." The man told him.

"Interested in Sherlock? Why?" John demanded. "You clearly aren't his friend."

"You've met him. How many friends do you imagine he has?" The man asked with a smirk. "I'm the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having."

"And what's that?" John asked.

"An enemy." The man told him.

"An enemy?" John repeated instantly guarded. This man was Sherlock's enemy? If that was true then what did he plan to do with John? Did he believe that kidnapping and/or hurting John would hurt Sherlock?

"In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic." The man said getting a far off look to his eyes. John looked around the room dramatically.

"Well, thank God you're above all that." John snapped out. The man gave him a hard, reprimanding look a second before John's phone signaled he had a message. Without thought, John pulled the phone out and checked the message, sending his own silent message to the man that John didn't see him as much of a threat.

 _Baker Street.  
_ _Come at once  
_ _if convenient._

 _SH_

"I hope I'm not distracting you." The man said.

"Maybe a little." John told him never looking up from the phone as he wondered how Sherlock had gotten his number.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?" The man asked in a tone that had John looking at him.

"I could be wrong, but I think that's none of your business." John snapped out receiving an amused look from the man.

"It could be." The man said.

"It really couldn't." John said firmly. The man sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notebook.

"If you do move into, um... 221B Baker Street," He read from the notebook, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way." That pissed John off. Who did this man thank he was? Did he really expect John to spy on Sherlock? A thought suddenly hit him. How many new acquaintance had this man kidnapped and offer money for them to spy on Sherlock? How many had actually taken the offer?

"You want to pay me to spy on Sherlock?" John demanded angrily.

"Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he's up to." The man soothed.

"Why?" John growled out.

"I worry about him. Constantly." The man said and John scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"That's nice of you." John said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned." The man told him. "We have what you might call a... Difficult relationship." John's phone chimed once more and John looked at the message.

 _If inconvenient,  
_ _come anyway._

 _SH_

"No." John told the man who honestly seemed shocked.

"But I haven't mentioned a figure." The man said.

"Don't bother." John told him causing the man to chuckle amusingly.

"You're very loyal very quickly." He pointed out.

"I guess that's the soldier in me." John snapped out. The man gave him a hard look before sighing in annoyance as he pulled his little notebook back out.

"'Trust issues,' it says here." He read out and John paled. Had this man somehow gotten a hold of his confidential therapy notes? How much did this man know about him?

"What's that?" John asked hating how small his voice had suddenly become.

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlock Holmes of all people?" The man asked as he casually flipped through the pages of his notebook while keeping it at an angle so that John couldn't read it.

"Who says I trust him?" John asked.

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily. Not after what happened to you in the war." The man said lazily and John took in a hard breath as the walls began to try and close in around them.

"Are we done?" John growled out.

"You tell me." The man said looking up at him from the book with a dark look in his eyes. John glared at him before turning around and started heading back towards the car. He was done. He wanted nothing more to do with this man. And the next time he saw the man, he would get a face full of cane. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away form him, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen." John stopped at that and flexed his left hand. What about his hand?

"My what?" John growled out threateningly as he turned to glare at the man.

"Show me." The man ordered. The two stood in tense silence as John battled himself. He wanted to know what the hell the man was talking about but at the same time he wanted to leave. Finally, John held up his left hand. The man walked closer and reached out to touch it and John growled and snapped at him. The man gave him a reprimanding look before gently taking a hold of John's hand. "Remarkable." He said with a smirk as he let John's hand go.

"What is?" John demanded.

"Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield. You've seen it already. Haven't you?" The man asked.

"What's wrong with my hand?" John demanded.

"You have an intermittent tremor in you left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service." The man said.

"Who the hell are you?" John growled out tightening his grip on his cane. "How do you know that?"

"Fire her." The man ordered. "She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr Watson... You miss it." The man moved so that his mouth was right next to John's ear. "Welcome back." He whispered before be backed up and walked away as John's phone chimed one last time. "Time to choose a side, Dr Watson."

"I'm to take you home." Anthea said stepping out of the car. John sighed and pulled out his phone to read his message that was no doubt from Sherlock.

 _Could be dangerous_

 _SH_

"Address?" Anthea asked after John had put his phone away and checked his hand.

"Uh, Baker Street. 221B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first." John told Anthea as he limped back to the car.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six-**

After having found the pink suitcase not far from the house, Sherlock had raced home and searched the contents not finding the woman's phone or her planner. That meant that the woman had somehow left it on the murderer. Once he had realized that, it didn't take Sherlock very long to find her number. Now all he needed was John to hurry up and get there so that he could continue with his plan to catch the killer.

It had taken him having to ask John three times for his phone and not receiving an answer from the Omega for him to realize that John wasn't even there with him. He had left him at that crime scene. With a sigh, Sherlock had pulled out his phone and texted the Omega. When he didn't receive a reply after a couple of minutes, he sent another text. Only to repeat the process a third and final time.

Finally, 20 minutes after the finale text, John entered the flat. But by that point, Sherlock had been bored enough to stick three nicotine patches on his arm to help not only keep the boredom at bay but help him think. It helped, a little, but it would not shut up the nagging feeling that something had happened to John. Yet, the second John's scent hit his nose, the nagging feeling left.

"What are you doing?" John asked, and normally Sherlock wouldn't answer a question like that, but seeing as John had asked, it wouldn't hurt to answer him.

"Nicotine patch." He said showing the patches to the Omega. "Helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."

"It's good news for breathing." John muttered and Sherlocke rolled his eyes while groaning at that cliche answer, he knew John could do better than that.

"Breathing! Breathing's boring." Sherlock told him.

"Is that three patches?" John asked limping over to him and Sherlock had to bite back the urge to glare at the cane. He knew John could walk without either the limp or cane, he just needed to prove it to John. Now he would need to figure how to go about doing that.

"It's a three-patch problem." Sherlock told the Omega stapling his hands under his chin to try and come up with a plan to show John he could walk without letting John know that was what he was doing. Proving to John that he could walk without a limp wouldn't work if John figured out that was what Sherlock was doing.

"Well?" John asked and for a split second Sherlock feared that John had already caught on. "You asked me to come, I'm assuming it's important." The case! John was talking about the case!

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked forcing his mind back on the case. John's limp could come after the case, or at least until after he had sent the text message he needed to.

"My phone?" John asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion as his mind tried to race to figure out what Sherlock already knew.

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance that my number will be recognized. It's on the website." Sherlock said.

"Mrs Hudson's got a phone." John pointed out.

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear." Sherlock said.

"I was on the other side of London..." John hissed at him making Sherlock wonder what he was doing there.

"There was no hurry." But as Sherlock said this, he realized it was only partially true. It was true there was no hurry regarding the case, but once Sherlock had realized John wasn't with him, he had wanted John with him as soon as possible. John sighed and pulled out his phone.

"Here." He said holding it out for Sherlock to take, which he did. "So what's this about. The case?"

"Her case..." Sherlock told him.

"Her case?" John asked.

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously." Sherlock said. "The murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake." An idea popped into his mind and he tried to find if there was any other way to go about this, when no other idea came, Sherlock knew that this was the best way to go. "It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it." He muttered to himself before shelving the thought and turned his attention back to John and the case. "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text." He ordered holding out John's phone to the Omeaga as he began to figure out how to go about his idea.

"You've brought me here to send a text?" John asked bringing him back to the case.

"Text, yes. The number on my desk." Sherlock said as a plan started to slowly form. John took his phone back from Sherlock as he took a deep breath, catching a faint yet very familiar scent on John. That scent sent Sherlock's mind into over drive. It couldn't be possible? Why was that scent there? It shouldn't be there! That scent should never be on John! Sherlock was barely able to fight the urge to jump up and replace that scent with his own.

He tried to force himself to go back to thinking about either the case or his plan, but that scent on John was making it very hard. Sherlock was suddenly hyper aware of John and his pacing between his spot in front of Sherlock and checking out the window for something. Did John think that he would suddenly appear? Though, Sherlock didn't put it past him.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"Just met a friend of yours." John informed him. Friend? He was calling himself Sherlock's friend now?

"A friend?" Sherlock growled out.

"An enemy." John corrected "Well, according to him, your arch-enemy." John corrected. "Do people have arch-enemies?" Sherlock growled out checking John over, needing to see that John was alright. Tight lipped. He was stressed. Gipping his cane so hard that his knuckles are white. He was distressed, upset, or both. At seeing that, Sherlock couldn't fight the urge to be next to John and shot off the couch. He gently grabbed John by the shoulders and turned him so that the Omega was now looking at him.

"He won't hurt you, John." Sherlock told him firmly.

"I know he can't hurt me." John said and Sherlock shook his head.

"Oh he can hurt you, but he won't." Sherlock growled out and became annoyed when John's distress and anger refused to leave. Sherlock looked at John again, what was it that was distressing and upsetting John so much? And then he saw it. "He offered you money to spy on me." John's distress and anger rose.

"Yes." John growled out.

"Did you take it?" Sherlock asked quietly and once again John's distress and anger rose.

"Who do you thinking I am! No I didn't take it!" John hissed out glaring at him. A strange, warm feeling swept through Sherlock at the knowledge that John was angry and distressed for him. John was angry that anyone would dare to pay some to spy on Sherlock. He was distressed just knowing there was someone out there willing to do just that. Sherlock sighed and, for reasons he couldn't come up with, wrapped his arms around John in a hug, resting his ching on the top of John's head.

"Pity, we could have split the fee." He joked and wondered if he had made the situation worse when John tensed, before relaxing with a laugh. Right, John was better, back to the case. Slowly, almost as if he were reluctant, Sherlock removed his arms from around John and took a step back, taking a few sniffs as he did. He became very pleased with himself when his scent was the only thing he could smell on John.

"Who is he?" John asked.

"The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now." Sherlock growled out. "On my desk, the number!" He ordered walking back over to the couch.

"Jennifer Wilson. That was..." Sherlock could hear the minute John's brain connected the pieces as he looked around the room and finally spotted the suitcase. "That's..."

"Yes, that's the woman's number. Yes, that's her suitcase. Can we please move on." Sherlock said.

"Alright." John muttered.

"These words exactly. 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland St. Please come.'" Sherlock recited.

"You blacked out?" John asked in concern.

"What? No... No!" Sherlock sighed and stood up from the couch once more and quickly made his way over to John, stepping on the coffee table to do so. "Type and send it. Quickly."

"Sent. Now, tell me why you have the pink lady's- why you have Jennifer Wilson's case." John demanded.

"I didn't kill her." Sherlock informed him angrily as he moved to crouch on his chair while looking at the suitcase sitting on a kitchen chair he had dragged in there earlier that evening.

"I never said you did." John told him honestly sending another wave of that strange, warm feeling through Sherlock again.

"Why not? Given that text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case it's a perfectly logical assumption." Sherlock said, part of him wanted John to accuse him already and be done with it while another part was desperate for John to believe him.

"I'm fairly sure you must have found it. What I want to know is why you haven't turned it over to the police." John told him softly causing Sherlock to want to jump up and kiss John for believing in him, but he refrain. He didn't want John to get the wrong idea. He wasn't looking for a Mate. "Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" John asked as if sensing his thoughts.

"Now and then, yes." Sherlock admitted and had to fight back a smile when he saw John getting angry and annoyed on his behalf. It felt... nice to have someone do that.

"So, where did you find this?" John asked limping over to the chair that was quickly becoming his chair in Sherlock's mind.

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves, particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it. The moment he noticed he still had it, wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realize his mistake." Sherlock said looking away from the case to glance at John and nearly lost his thought when he saw the amazed look on John's face and in his eyes. He had never met anyone who thought his ability to read things and people as amazing as John did. People only ever hated him for it. Yet this Omega, this man, was amazed by it, by him.

At the crime scene when John had unknowingly been whispering out his amazement at Sherlock's deductions and giving him a high that he had never be able to achieve before, he knew then that he wanted to keep John. He want John to stay with him for as long as his deductions continued to amaze the man. Maybe even after. Sherlock was very possessive of what was his. He may not have very many things, but what he did have was his. And John was quickly becoming his.

"I checked every backstreet wide enough for a car," Sherlock continued hoping that John didn't catch the hitch in his breath or the slight airiness to his tone, "five minutes from Lauriston Gardens, and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an hour to find the right skip."

"Pink. You got all that because you realized the case would be pink?" John asked with a soft smile.

"Well, it had to be pink, obviously." Sherlock said.

"I didn't realize that the case would be pink until you said so back at the crime scene." John muttered.

"That's because you're an idiot." Sherlock said automatically. "But you're already miles a head of Lestrade and his team of idiots. They haven't even figured out the color of the case." He added quickly.

"I'm taking that's a complement coming from you?" John asked with a laugh.

"Now, look. Do you see what's missing?" Sherlock asked. John would figure it out because his John was smart. He watch John opened his mouth before shutting it and began to look at the case. Come on John, it's obvious. It's right there. You see it.

"The phone?" John asked looking away from the case to Sherlock who smiled proudly at him.

"Her phone." Sherlock agreed. "Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case." He watched John's mind began to race, looking at all the puzzle pieces scattered about and trying to put them together. Usually Sherlock would just tell the person the answer, but right now he wanted to see how long it would take John to figure it out. "We know she had one. That's her number there. You just texted it."

"The murderer has it." John whispered as a flash of fear flew through his eyes. But before Sherlock could even think about calming that fear, it was gone and John was laughing. "I just texted a murderer." The laughter was suddenly gone. "How is he going to react when he gets a text from someone he believes is dead?" Just then the phone rang.

"I thank that's our answer, John." Sherlock said. "A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her." John locked uncertain eyes with him. "If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignored a text like that, but the murderer... would panic."

"Have you talked to the police?" John asked as Sherlock shot out of his chair and threw on his suit jacket.

"Four people are dead, there's isn't time to talk to the police." Sherlock informed him.

"So why are you talking to me?" John asked. Why wouldn't Sherlock want to talk to him? John was interesting and found his deductions amazing rather than annoying. But he couldn't let John know that, he might get the wrong idea.

"Mrs Hudson took my skull." Sherlock said nodding towards the mantel where his skull had once been before Mrs Hudson had cleaned and straightened up. Sherlock opened the coat closet and took his and John's coats out.

"So, I'm basically filling in for your skull?" John asked with an amused smile.

"Relax, you're doing fine." Sherlock joked slipping on his coat before holding John's coat out for him. "Well?"

"Well, what?" John asked staring curiously at his coat in Sherlock's hand.

"Well, you could just sit there and watch telly." Sherlock said growling out the last word.

"Sherlock, do you want me to come with you?" John asked suddenly making Sherlock nervous.

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud." He admitted. "The skill just attracts attention, so..." He joked happy when John laughed. "Problem?" He asked when John still hadn't gotten up to take his coat.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan." John said and Sherlock growled. What had that stupid Beta woman told his John? If she scared John away from him, he would make her life a living hell.

"What about her?" Sherlock asked.

"She said..." John started only to stop and look away. Was he trying to gather up the curage or stifle any rage he felt from whatever she had told him. "She said you get off on this. You enjoy it."

"And I said 'dangerous,' and here you are." Sherlock countered before moving over to John and gently pulled him out of the chair. Within seconds, Sherlock had John in his coat and was leading him out of the flat. His plan was set in motion. He would kill two birds with one stone.

Sherlock, keeping a steady pace that was neither too fast nor too slow for John, lead the Omega down the street towards Angelo's while texting Angelo that he would be needing his window table and to be expecting him and a date. He was pretty sure that John hadn't had dinner yet. He couldn't have John passing out from malnutrition. John wasn't like him, he needed to eat regularly.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Northumberland St's a five minute walk from here." Sherlock said.

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?" John asked.

"No, I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're all so desperate to get caught." Sherlock informed him.

"Why?" John asked.

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John, it need and audience." Sherlock said.

"I'm starting to see that." John muttered with a smile.

"This is his hunting ground. Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know? Who?" John asked.

"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?" Sherlock asked before leading him into Angelo's and to the seat he had requested. "Thank you, Billy." Sherlock nodded to the waiter before taking off his coat and scarf and sat so that he could watch the street. "22 Northumberland St. Keep your eyes on it." He ordered as John got comfortable.

"He's not just going to ring the doorbell. He'd need to be mad." John told him.

"He has killed four people." Sherlock reminded John.

"Right." John said as Angelo made his way to them.

"Sherlock!" He cried out happily shaking Sherlock's hand. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and your date." He continued handing them the menus. And Sherlock knew he should correct Angelo that this wasn't actually a date, but he just couldn't make himself do so. Part of him wanted it to be a date.

"Do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked just before John could go into shock.

"I'm not his date." John muttered awkwardly. It hurt to hear John say that, did John not want to be his date?

"This man got me off a murder charge." Angelo informed John as he shakily began to look at the menu, face blank yet mind running. What was he thinking? Had Sherlock made him mad? Had he messed up?

"This is Angelo." Sherlock introduced. "Three years ago I proved to Lestrade at the time of particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking." He informed forcing his mind away from John to watch the street.

"He cleared my name." Angelo bragged.

"I cleared it a bit." Sherlock corrected "Anything happening opposite?"

"Nothing." Angelo told him before going back to John. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison." Sherlock once again corrected as John smiled at him.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic." Angelo said before leaving. John opened his mouth, probably to correct him again, only to sigh and close his mouth.

"Am I your date?" John asked and Sherlock stiffened up. He knew he should say no, that if he didn't John would get the wrong idea, but for the first time in his life he didn't want to say no.

"Do you want to be?" Sherlock asked in a guarded voice.

"I-" John started before stopping to gather his thoughts, Sherlock let him as he continued to stare out the window. "You don't want a Mate." At that Sherlock looked at John. So John knew about that. "Mike informed me of that. And well, I'm... I'm-"

"You're not broken." Sherlock told him firmly. "You're wounded, not broken." It was silent between them before Sherlock forced himself to look back at the street as he pushed his menu away from him. "Eat. We might have a long wait." Angelo came back and placed a non-scented candle in the middle of their table.

"Thanks." John told him before looking at the menu. After John placed an order of pasta they sat in silence for a couple minutes with half of Sherlock's brain focused on watching the street and the other half wondering what John was thinking about. "People don't have arch-enemies." John suddenly said catching Sherlock off guard after he had gotten his food.

"I'm sorry?" He asked looking at him.

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen." John said with an amused smile.

"Doesn't it?" Sherlock asked going back to watching the street. "Sounds a bit dull." He wanted John to drop this subject.

"So who did I meet?" John asked, his tone telling him he would not drop the subject until he got his answer.

"What do real people have, then, in their real lives?" He asked.

"Friends. People they know, people they like, people they don't like." John trailed off.

"Yes, well, as I was saying... dull." Sherlock said.

"What are we?" John asked suddenly, "Because you obviously called a head of time, before I got there and reserved this table for us, with me as your date. Yet, you don't want a Mate. I'm telling you now, Sherlock, one of these days I want to find a Mate that can over look my-"

"I don't know." Sherlock growled out, the thought of John with someone else angered him for reasons he did not want to admit to. Something about John made Sherlock want to be with him. He knew he should hate that, knew he should push John away like he did everyone else that tried to get too close, yet, he couldn't. He wanted John to be close to him. "I just... I don't know. I've never wanted a Mate. Never wanted to get close to anyone. This is new."

"Okay." John said taking a bite of his food. Sherlock tore his eyes off John eating and looked out the window to notice a taxi idling in front of the address he had given the murderer.

"Look across the street. Taxi. It's stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out." John turned to look. "Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

"That's him." John said

"Don't stare." Sherlock told him.

"But you're staring." John pointed out.

"We can't both stare." Sherlock argued before grabbing his coat and scarf and running out the door, pausing long enough for John to catch up before taking off after the taxi as it began to move.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven-**

Running after Sherlock who was chasing after the taxi they had spotted from Angelo's was not John first idea of a date. But then, when one was possibly with Sherlock, a normal date was too dull. His heart lept into his throat when Sherlock suddenly rolled off the hood of a car that slammed on their breaks just before actually hitting the Alpha. John slid across the hood after Sherlock while apologizing to the owner of the car.

"I've got the cab number." John informed Sherlock when he stopped after the taxi had vanished from sight.

"Good for you." Sherlock muttered before beginning to spout out directions. "Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic light." Once finished with whatever he was doing, Sherlock took off and John quickly followed.

"Sorry." John apologized after Sherlock shoved a man out of his way into an apartment building. John chased him up the flight of stairs until the came to the roof. Where was Sherlock taking them?

"Come on John." Sherlock ordered causing John to run faster. They ran across roof tops with John easily keeping up with Sherlock until they came across a gap that seemed slightly to large for John to jump causing him to slide to a stop. "Come on John! We're losing him!" Sherlock cried having also stopped when he realized John was no longer following him. John backed up and took a running leap and made the gap before they continued running.

Soon, they had managed to drop back down to street level where they ran down alley after alley. At the end of one alley, John saw the taxi drive by them. "Oh! This way!" Sherlock ordered and John followed. After more alleys, Sherlock ran out of an alley and into the street right in front of the taxi causing it to slam on it's breaks. "Police! Open her up." Sherlock growled pulling out a badge from his coat pocket.

Sherlock went to the back of the taxi to were the passenger was sitting and threw the door open. After taking one look at the passenger he groaned in annoyance. "No..." He said shaking his head. "Teeth, tan. What, Californian?" He asked before checking the man's luggage that was at his feet. "LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived."

"How could you possibly that?" John panted out. He hadn't run like that since boot camp.

"The luggage." Sherlock said. "Ah, probably your first trip to London, right? Going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you."

"Sorry, are you guys the police?" The man asked.

"Yeah." Sherlock said flashing his badge. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah." The man answered with a little nervous laugh.

"Welcome to London." Sherlock said causing John to laugh before he stalked off.

"Uh, any problems, just let us know." John said after he had stopped laughing. He shut the taxi door before walking over to Sherlock who was waiting for him. "Basically just a cab that happened to slow down."

"Basically." Sherlock agreed.

"Not the murderer." John said.

"Not the murderer, no." Sherlock agreed again.

"Wrong country, good alibi." John said.

"As they go." Sherlock said as John took the badge from him.

"Where did you get this?" John asked. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?" He read.

"Yeah. I pickpocket him when he's annoying." Sherlock admitted. "You can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat." That caused John to start laughing again. "What?"

"Nothing, just... 'Welcome to London.'" John quoted as they looked over to see the passenger talking to a real police man.

"Got your breath back?" Sherlock asked as John's laughter subsided to giggles.

"Ready when you are." John said before they both took off.

 **~Seven~**

"Okay." John panted out after they had stepped into the safety of 221B Baker Street. "That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done." John said resting against the wall. He looked over at Sherlock when he rested against the wall with his shoulder touching John's.

"And you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlock said causing both of them to laugh as John shifted to rest against Sherlock.

"That wasn't just me." John said as Sherlock rested his cheek on top of his head. "Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"

"They can keep an eye out." Sherlock said. "It was a long shot anyway."

"So what were we doing there?" John asked.

"Getting you something to eat." Sherlock said. "And proving a point."

"What point?" John asked.

"You." Sherlock said. "Mrs Hudson! Dr Watson will be moving in."

"Says who?" John asked.

"Says the man at the door." Sherlock said just before someone knocked on the door confusing John. After receiving a gentle nudge from Sherlock towards the door, John walked over to the door and opened it to find Angelo standing there holding his cane. It was then that John realized he hadn't been limping or using his cane since they began chasing the taxi.

"Sherlock texted me. He said you forgot this." Angelo said and John looked back at Sherlock, who had moved to stand behind John, in amazement.

"Er, thank you. Thank you." John told Angelo taking the cane. Sherlock backed up and let John back into the house and shut the door. John turned to face Sherlock who tilted his head down towards John's, he was going to kiss him! Sherlock was going to kiss him!

"Sherlock, what have you done?" Mrs Hudson asked in concerned fear causing Sherlock to look at her.

"Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock asked worried.

"Upstairs." She told them. Sherlock gripped John's hand and quickly lead them up the stairs to find Lestrade and his team tearing up the place.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock growled releasing John's hand and storming over to Lestrade who was lounging in Sherlock's chair as if he owned it.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case, I'm not stupid." Lestrade said as Sherlock began to pace in anger reminding John of a caged tiger.

"You can't just break into my flat. Do you know how long it will take to get your stench out of here!?" Sherlock growled.

"You can't withhold evidence, and I didn't break into your flat." Lestrade said.

"What do you call this?!" Sherlock roared motioning to the team tearing up the flat.

"It's a drug bust." Lestrade said shocking John. Sherlock couldn't possibly use drugs. He wouldn't dare risk destroying his mind like that? Would he?

"Seriously? This guy, a junkie?" John asked in disbelief and Sherlock tensed up before quickly making his way over to John and pulling him protectively and possessively against him, effectively cutting off anymore of John's arguments.

"John." Sherlock warned and John looked at him in shock.

"No." John whispered and Sherlock's eyes suddenly became guarded.

"What?" He demanded.

"You?" John asked. Why?

"I'll explain later." Sherlock whispered soothingly before turning his attention back to Lestrade. "I'm not your sniffer dog."

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade informed.

"What? I..." Sherlock started before the kitchen door opened to show a pissed off Anderson and a deep growl flew from Sherlock. "Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

"Oh, I volunteered." Anderson said darkly. Sherlock growled again and let go of John to run his hands through his hair while pacing yet again.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen." Lestrade informed them.

"Are these human eyes?" Sally asked holding a jar of eyes.

"Put those back!" Sherlock ordered.

"They were in the microwave." Sally said.

"It's an experiment!" He growled out and John made a mental note to bleach the microwave once the experiment was done.

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade told his team. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish." Sherlock growled.

"Well, I'm dealing with a child." Lestrade said. "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"What, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock asked, stuttering in anger.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade told him seriously.

"I am clean!" Sherlock roared.

"Is your flat?" Anderson asked.

"All of it?" Lestrade asked.

"Don't even smoke." Sherlock growled before unbuttoning the sleeve of his suit and rolling it up to show Lestrade the nicotine patch.

"Neither do I." Lestrade said also rolling up his sleeve to show a nicotine patch. "So let's work together." Sherlock stormed over to John and pulled him to him again, and buried his nose in John hair. John didn't know how to act. They had just gone on their first date and now Sherlock was using John's scent to try and calm himself down. "We've found Rachel."

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked, his voice muffled by John's hair.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Lestrade informed.

"Her daughter?" Sherlock asked removing his nose from John's hair, but still held on to him. "Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"

"Never mind that, we found the case." Anderson said. "According to someone the murderer has the case and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath." John balled his fist up and tried to removed himself from Sherlock to go punch Anderson in the face, but Sherlock refused to let him go.

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson." Sherlock growled. "I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do you research." He then turned his attention to Lestrade. "You need to bring Rachel in, you need to question her. I need to question her."

"She's dead." Lestrade told him.

"Excellent. How and when, why?" Sherlock asked in lightning speed. "Is there a connection? There has to be."

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for 14 years. Technically she was never alive." Lestrade said and John sucked in a breath at that causing Sherlock to tighten his hold for a second. "Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, 14 years ago."

"No, that's... That's not right. How? Why would she do that? Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup, sociopath, I'm seeing it now." Anderson said.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her finger nails. She was dying. It took effort, it would have hurt." Sherlock hissed at Anderson before releasing John to start pacing again, this time in thought rather than anger.

"'They take the poisons themselves', that's what you said." John said. "He makes them take it. Well, maybe he talks to them. Maybe used the death of her daughter somehow."

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" Sherlock asked. There was a tense silence in the room as Sherlock realized what he said and who he said it to. "Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah." John told him. And suddenly Sherlock had John in his arms again.

"If you were dying..." Sherlock started before stopping with a low growl. He shook his head and then seemed to try again. "If you were dying... If you'd been murdered in your last few second, what would you say?"

"Please, God, let me live." John said, saying the exact words he said in Afghanistan.

"Use your imagination!" Sherlock snapped at him.

"I don't have to!" John snapped back. It seemed to take Sherlock a few seconds to understand what John was saying because a second later Sherlock had pulled him to him. "Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever. Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever. She's trying to tell us something."

"Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock." Mrs Hudson said.

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock told her before beginning to pace again.

"Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"It's a drug's bust, Mrs Hudson." John told her.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers." Mrs Hudson said worried.

"Shut up, everybody! Shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breath. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off." Sherlock roared.

"What? My face is?" Anderson asked.

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade said.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Anderson complained.

"Your back, now, please." Lestrade roared.

"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock began to mutter.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock roared just as John yelled:

"Password!" Sherlock looked at him. "It's her password. Rachel is her password." Sherlock's face lit up.

"Oh. Ah!" He said moving over to John and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. "She was clever. Clever, yes! And so are you for figuring it out." He whispered resting his forehead on John's. "She's cleverer than you lot," He hissed at Lestrade and his team, "and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him. When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."

"But how?" Lestrade asked.

"What do you mean, how? John just said it. Rachel!" The blank look Sherlock received from Lestrade and his team caused him to groan. "Look at you lot, John obviously excluded. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing." It felt good to know that Sherlock was not including him in that lot. "Rachel is not a name. John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." He said giving John a little shove towards the case as he rushed to his laptop.

"jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk." John read to him.

"Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone. So it's a Smartphone, it's e-mail enabled. So those are website for her account. The username is her e-mail address, and all together now, the password is?"

"Rachel." Anderson said. "So we can read her e-mails. So what?"

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street." Sherlock growled. "We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a Smartphone, it's got GPS. Which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading up directly to the man who killed her."

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade said.

"We know he didn't." John told him.

"Come on, come on. Quickly!" Sherlock hissed at his computer.

"Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver..." Mrs Hudson began as Sherlock got up from his desk and over to her.

"Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" He asked. "Get vehicles, get a helicopter. We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever."

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Lestrade said as John watched the screen for when the GPS activated.

"It's a start." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock?" John called when the GPS said the phone was in the flat.

"Narrows it down from just anyone on London. It's the first proper lead that we've had." Sherlock continued speaking with Lestrade.

"Sherlock?" John called again. Something wasn't right, he was positive that the phone had not been in the flat before. He had texted it and whoever had the phone called back. So why was the phone now in the flat?

"Where is it? Quickly, where?" Sherlock asked running over to him.

"Here. It's in 221B Baker Street." John told him as they shared a look.

"How can it be here?" Sherlock asked. "How?"

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade suggested. That would have made sense had they not received a call from the phone.

"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?" Sherlock asked.

"That's not possible, Inspector, we texted him and he called back." John told him.

"Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim..." Lestrade said obviously ignoring what John had told him. John groaned and sat back in the desk chair running his hands through his hair going over everything that night. Sherlock had asked some questions earlier that night, questions neither of them had the answer to. Maybe if John could figure out that answers then they could solve the case.

"Who do we trust even if we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

John looked up at Sherlock when his phone alerted him that he had a text message. He read it and got a strange look in his eyes as he looked out the door. The cabbie that had come to get him turned and walked back down the stairs.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked standing up from the desk.

"What?" Sherlock asked distractedly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Did you figure something out?" John asked moving to stand in front of him.

"No." Sherlock said.

"Are you sure?" John asked.

"Yeah." Sherlock said before moving around John and out the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Fresh air, just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long." Sherlock told him.

"Do you want me to come with you?" John asked. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

"Stay there." Sherlock ordered. Once John had heard the door shut, he flew over to the window and watched as Sherlock and the cabbie began to have a conversation as he tried calling the phone. And then, Sherlock got into the taxi.

"Why did you get into the cab?" John muttered catching everyone's attention. "He just got into a cab."

"I told you, he does that. He bloody left again." Sally said in annoyance. "We're wasting our time!" Sally growled to the team.

"I'm calling the phone, it's ringing out." John told Lestrade.

"And if it's ringing, it's not here." Lestrade said realizing what John and Sherlock had been telling him.

"I'll try the search again." John said refreshing the page.

"Does it matter? Does any of it? He's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down. And you're wasting your time. All our time." Sally told them and John moved to punch her in the face, only being stopped by Lestrade.

"Okay, everybody, we're done here." Lestrade said and everyone stopped what they were doing and left leaving only him and Lestrade. "Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?"

"You know him better than I do." John said as Lestrade slipped his coat on.

"I've known him for five years, and no, I don't. Didn't even know he was interested in mating anyone." Lestrade said and John had to fight a blush.

"So, why do you put up with him?" John asked.

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." Lestrade said before leaving, he stopped at the door and turned to look at John. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one." And then he left. John sat at the desk wondering why Sherlock had gotten into the cab. And then it clicked. It was the cabbie!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight-**

Everything from realizing it was the cabbie, to using the GPS to track down Sherlock, to shooting the cabbie, to now standing outside the taped off zone near where they had Sherlock was a blur of adrenaline. Part of John wondered if it even happened or if he had just made it up.

"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me." John overheard Sherlock complain when Lestrade walked up to him after having done a round of the crime scene.

"Yeah, it's for shock." Lestrade told him as John tried not to draw attention to himself.

"I'm not in shock." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs." Lestrade said.

"So, the shooter. No sign?" Sherlock asked and John had to remind himself to keep breathing.

"Cleared off before we got here." Lestrade said looking over and noticing John just standing there, pretending to look around. "But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him, but... we've got nothing to go on."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Sherlock said and John's heart jumped, would Sherlock really tell the police it was him?

"Okay. Give me." Lestrade ordered.

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, from that kind of weapon. That's a crack shot we're looking for. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service," And then Sherlock was looking at him, realization in his eyes, "and nerves of steel..." When John saw that Sherlock understood he had shot the man he looked away from the Alpha, but with an ear still in the conversation. "Actually, do you know what? Ignore me." John's heart speed up at that, Sherlock was protecting him.

"Sorry?" Lestrade asked.

"Ignore all that. It's just the, er, the shock talking." Sherlock said before heading towards John.

"Where are you going?" Lestrade demanded.

"I just need to talk about the rent." Sherlock said, it was obvious in his voice that he was desperate to get to John.

"I've still got questions." Lestrade said.

"What now? I'm in shock, look, I've got a blanket." Sherlock said showing the Inspector his blanket.

"Sherlock!" Lestrage growled.

"And, I just caught you a serial killer. More or less. May I please go to my John?" Sherlock begged. Lestrade took a deep, calming breath.

"Okay. We'll pull you in tomorrow, off you go." Lestrade said and Sherlock rushed over to John, ducking under the tape, and pulled John into a hug after removing the blanket.

"Erm, Sergeant Donovan has just been explaining everything." John informed Sherlock of his lie. "The two pills. Dreadful business, isn't it? Dreadful." He trailed off at the look Sherlock was giving him just before Sherlock's hands gently took him by the cheeks and his lips touched John's.

"Good shot." Sherlock whispered as he pulled away from the kiss.

"Yes. Yes, must have been. Through that window." John squeaked out.

"Well, you'd know." Sherlock told him with a smirk. "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." Sherlock pecked him once more on the lips. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course I'm all right." John told him.

"Well, you have just killed a man." Sherlock said.

"Yes." John said receiving an intense stare from the Alpha. "That's true, isn't it? But he wasn't a very nice man."

"No. No, he wasn't, really, was he?" Sherlock said thoughtfully.

"Frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John said with a smirk causing Sherlock to chuckle.

"That's true, he was a bad cabbie." Sherlock said wrapping an arm around John's waist and began leading him away from the crime scene. "You should have seen the route he took us to get here." He joked and John began to giggle.

"Stop it! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it." John said trying to reprimand Sherlock, but his giggling wasn't helping.

"Well, you're the one who shot him." Sherlock said.

"Keep your voice down." John giggled out receiving a disgusted look, either from laughing to Sherlock's arm around him. "Sorry, it's just, erm, nerves, I think."

"Sorry." Sherlock said fight off a smile.

"You were gonna take that damn pill, weren't you?" John accused, knowing he was right. He had seen the look in Sherlock's eyes, seen the trimmer in his hand from the urge to take it.

"Course I wasn't." Sherlock told him and John glared at him. "Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."

"No, you didn't." John said laughing. "That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked defensively.

"Because you're an idiot." John told him and Sherlock smiled down at him as he held John closer to him.

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked.

"Starving." John said.

"End of Baker Street there's a good Chinese. Stays open till 2:00. You can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock informed John who froze when he saw the mysterious caller step out of a familiar black car. From the growl Sherlock was letting out, John was sure he had spotted the man as well.

"Sherlock. That's him, that's the man I was talking to you about." John whispered to Sherlock.

"I know exactly who that is." Sherlock growled before leading John over to the man.

"So... Another case cracked. How very public-spirited." The man said eyeing Sherlock's arm around John's waist. "Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you." The man told Sherlock.

"Yes, I've been hearing about your _concern_." Sherlock growled.

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" The man asked.

"Oddly enough, no." Sherlock growled.

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy." The man said confusing John. Mummy?

" _I_ upset her?" Sherlock asked. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"No. No, wait..." John said as his brain tried to make sense of everything going on."Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

"Mother. _Our_ Mother." Sherlock informed him. "This is my brother, Mycroft. Putting on weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact." Mycroft said with a smirk.

"He's your brother?" John asked.

"Of course he's my brother." Sherlock told him.

"So he's not..." John started.

"Not what?" Sherlock asked looking at him causing John to blush in embarrassment.

"I don't know. Criminal mastermind?" John suggested.

"Close enough." Sherlock said.

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft scoffed.

"He _is_ the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Sherlock growled out proving a point. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic." Sherlock said before beginning to lead John away only to have John stop him so he could look back at Mycroft.

"So, when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked and Sherlock growled in annoyance.

"Yes, of course." Mycroft said honestly.

"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?" John asked looking between the brothers.

"He's always been so resentful." Mycroft said and Sherlock scoffed. "You can imagine the Christmas dinner. I'm sure you'll experience one soon."

"Yeah." John said distractedly before he realized what he had said. "Wait, what? But we just... we're..."

"Come on, John." Sherlock said before practically dragging John away.

"So, dim sum." John said happy to talk about something that was his relationship with Sherlock, what ever this was.

"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock bragged as he hailed a taxi.

"No, you can't." John told him as he followed Sherlock into the taxi

"Almost can." Sherlock corrected pulling John as close to him as her could. "You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?" John asked at the sudden change of subject.

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound." Sherlock said wrapping an arm around John's shoulders.

"Oh, Yeah, shoulder." John told him.

"Shoulder! I thought so." Sherlock said.

"No, you didn't." John teased gently bumping against him.

"The left one." Sherlock said taping a finger on the said shoulder, just above the scar.

"Lucky guess." John laughed out.

"I never guess." Sherlock bragged.

"Yes, you do." John told him and noted a wide smile on the Alpha's face. "What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty." Sherlock said.

"What's Moriarty?" John asked.

"I've absolutely no idea."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine-**

The morning after the shooting, John wake up and it took his mind a few minute to realize he was alone in Sherlock's room. Slowly his mind recalled the memory of last night. After getting a taxi home and ordering delicious Chinese, Sherlock had taken John gently by the wrist and took him to his room, shocking John. When he had planned to go to bed last night, he had thought he would be taking the upstairs bedroom. But obviously, Sherlock had had other plans.

When they had gotten to the bedroom, Sherlock gently pushed John onto the bed before disappearing confusing John. And then, Sherlock had come back with John's night clothes. "Change." The Alpha had ordered gently handing John his clothes before stepping out. After John realized what the heck was going on, he had changed. And before he could let Sherlock know he was done, Sherlock was back in the room and was now laying, sprawled out, on the bed. He had also changed and was now in sweats and a house coat.

"Come here." Sherlock had whispered, and John thought he had sounded unsure and slightly scared, as if afraid John would deny him. After hearing his tone, John had quickly climbed onto the bed and allowed Sherlock to pull him so that they were now back to chest. It felt strange to have someone laying beside him or, in Sherlock's case, wrapped around him.

"Sleep." Sherlock told him as he began to run his hand through John's hair, luring him into a deep sleep. A sleep that had not been disturbed by nightmares. John sat on the bed, wrapped in the blankets soaked with Sherlock's scent, shocked that he had been able to sleep through the whole night. It had been years since he had slept the whole night. John's stomach growled informing him that he was hungry.

With a sigh, John slipped out of Sherlock's bed and, with a slight hesitation, grabbed a spare house coat before leaving the room. John padded down the hallway and paused just outside the living room when he spotted Sherlock lounging on the couch in his house coat with his hands stapled under his chin. "There's food in the kitchen." Sherlock told him without opening his eyes.

"Right." John said before he continued into the kitchen where he began to search the refrigerator for the food Sherlock mentioned and nearly screamed in fright when he saw a head in the fridge. He slammed the fridge shut before running into the living room where he noticed Sherlock had sat up, concern in his eyes. "There's a head in the fridge!" He told the Alpha.

"It's an experiment." Sherlock told him calmly as his body relaxed.

"An ex-" John started before he closed his eyes in slight annoyance, it would seem that he would have to get used to finding random body parts around the house if he were to stay here with Sherlock. "Sherlock, if I designate a certain place in the fridge for your experiments, would you actually use it?" His answer was a sigh and John gave his own sigh before he spun on the balls of his feet. "If you don't, then I _will_ throw them away." He warned as he went back into the kitchen.

 **~Nine~**

Life with someone was different than Sherlock had expected it to be. He had thought that he would have been hiding in his room or running his new flatmate out of the flat to do whatever they would do for the whole day. But, with John, Sherlock always wanted John with him or in the flat within ear shot. He found out very quickly that he loved having John in his arms as they slept and for the past week he had pulled John into his room at night. And though Sherlock didn't sleep much he found watching John sleep at night fascinating.

Him and John quickly fell into a routine. Sherlock would get up in the morning after holding John all night and visit his mind palace and into John's wing to categorize everything he had learned about John the night before. John would wake up and enter the living room wearing the house coat Sherlock would leave out for the Omega, and go into the kitchen to make him breakfast and a cuppa while also making Sherlock some toast and a cuppa as well.

After lunch, Sherlock would finally emerge from his mind palace before checking his e-mails for cases. He would spend the next few hours sitting in his chair solving boring cases that he didn't need to be there to solve as John sat across from him in his chair looking for work. Around dinner time Sherlock would have John order whatever he wanted and they would eat, well, John would eat and Sherlock would nibble to keep John from gripping at him. And then at night after John had showered and changed, Sherlock would lead him to their room and hold him all night.

And for weeks that was their life. Nothing changed. And Sherlock didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. Because, even though they didn't do much of anything but be with each other, life with John was _not_ boring. But that didn't mean the Sherlock didn't want it to stay like that. He was beginning to long for an interesting case that couldn't be solved from their flat.

"Sherlock." John growled out from the kitchen, his tone of voice instantly snapping Sherlock out of his mind palace. Had he not put a body part in his designated spot in the fridge again? He shot up into a sitting position, intending to rush into the kitchen to save whatever body part John was fixing to throw out, when John stormed into living room. "There's no food in this flat!" John told him angrily. "Why isn't there any food?"

Sherlock froze. John was upset. And he wasn't upset that there was not food in the flat, this happened about every other week. He was just using that as an excuse to take his anger out on Sherlock. So what had made his John so angry?

"Useless!" John hissed before storming over to the coat closet and grabbing his coat from it. "I guess I'll have to do the shopping. You just lay there and do nothing but mope."

"I've been offered a case." Sherlock told him, had them not having a case to work on upset John? Would he leave because of this? That got Sherlock up off the couch and over to John before he could even comprehend what he was doing. John looked at him in annoyance before understanding flashed through his eyes.

"I'm just going to get us some food, Sherlock. I'll be back." John told him before peeking him on the lips. "What's this case you've been offered."

"The Jaria Diamond's gone missing. They want me to find it." Sherlock muttered. So John wasn't upset with him not being able to find a case interesting enough to leave the flat? Then what was bothering John? But John had left the flat before Sherlock had time to figure it out. Sherlock sighed and looked around the flat as his mind raced to figure out what was wrong with his John.

As his mind did that, his body began to move on its own. He took a shower and got dressed before he grabbed John's laptop from where it sat under John's chair. Even with most of his mind focused on figuring out what was wrong with John, it didn't take him long to crack John's password. He quickly logged in to his e-mails and found the request he had told John about.

He had gotten that request days ago, accepted it, and had solved it within hours. He just hadn't gotten around to e-mailing the person back with the results. But before he could begin to type out a response, the door to the flat burst open as a Arabic swordsman ran in. Sherlock carefully tossed John's laptop onto John's chair and began dancing around every swing of the sword. The sword's man cornered Sherlock on the couch and went to swing at him, but Sherlock kicked him away causing him to stumble and trip over the coffee table.

Sherlock shot off the couch, fixed his suit, and quickly scanned to see if the swordsman had broken anything. John was already piss off about something, he didn't need to anger him any further by having something of his broken in a fight. The swordsman jumped back up, and before he could continue swinging at him, Sherlock punched him. After getting over the shock of being punched, the swordsman charged at him and pined him to the oak table in the kitchen with the sword against Sherlock's throat. The two struggled against each other and Sherlock growled when the sword dug into the table leaving a noticeable scratch.

Sherlock kicked the swordsman in the side, just knowing John was going to see the scratch and become even more upset. After a few hard kick's to the side, the swordsman stumbled back. "That is oak!" Sherlock growled before punching him again, this time knocking him out. Sherlock angrily fixed his suit once again before going to check the table. The scratch was clear as day, there would be no hiding that. And there was no time to order another table to get here before John got back from shopping.

Sherlock checked the time and saw that John should be back any minute. He grabbed the swordsman and carried him outside before dumping him in an alley his comrades would be sure to find him. He then rushed back to the flat and quickly put everything back where it was suppose to be, hiding the sword as best as he could under his chair. Once he was satisfied, Sherlock hopped into his chair, grabbed a book, and began to skim over it while waiting for John to return.

20 minutes later, 15 minutes longer than it should have taken John to get back, the Omega stormed up the stairs and into their flat without groceries. Something had happened. Had John been attacked? Sherlock peeked over his book discreetly and checked John over. There were no signs of an attack any where on John.

"You took your time." Sherlock muttered as John began to look around the room. John knew something was off in the flat. Sherlock stopped himself from tensing up.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." John told him as his eyes scanned over everything. Had Sherlock left any clues, besides the scratch on the table, that a fight had taken place? Sherlock stopped skimming the book to look at John worriedly. How would John react? Would he yell? Would he worry over Sherlock and demand to check for injuries? Would he not feel safe and leave?

"Why not?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I had a row in the shop with a chip and PIN machine." John snapped out.

"You had a row with a machine?" Sherlock asked tensing up. Mycroft had known about the fight happening in the flat and had tampered with the machine to keep John out longer, but that had caused John anger to rise. Sherlock bit back a growl at that. Mycroft needed to keep his nose out of their lives.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse." John said with a sigh rubbing his forehead. He was getting a headache. "Have you got cash?"

"Take my card." Sherlock told him, the thought of John using the money Sherlock had earned from all of his cases gave him a warm feeling. He was proving to John that he could and would take care of him. And though he knew what that feeling entailed and were that thought process would lead him to, he didn't feel the urge to run and hide. He couldn't stop the loving smile from appearing on his face.

But that smile vanished when John entered the kitchen to grab his wallet. John would see the scratch! How would he react?

"You could always go yourself, you know." John told him, pausing on his way towards the kitchen to look at Sherlock. "You've been cooped in the flat for weeks waiting for an interesting case." Sherlock looked back at his book when his mind pulled up the very recent memory of the fight. "And what happened about that case you were offered, the Jaria Diamond?" John asked from the kitchen as he searched for Sherlock's card in his wallet.

"Not interested." Sherlock told him closing his book and noticing that the swordsman's sword was sticking too far out. He quickly used the hill of his shoe to push it farther under his chair before John could see it. "I sent them a message." He said with a proud smirk. And then John noticed the scratch. Sherlock had to force himself to remain calm as he waited for John's reaction. But all he did was sigh in annoyance while running his finger along the scratch.

"I'll be back." John told him before leaving again. Once the door to the building had slammed shut, Sherlock released a breath. It still felt strange to worry about what someone else thought about him. It felt even stranger to worry if that person would leave him alone or not. Sherlock was used to people leaving him and had been fine being alone, at least until John entered his life. Now that he knew what if felt like to be cared for and to care for someone else, he didn't want to lose that feeling again.

Sherlock sighed and grabbed John's laptop once more and signed in. He quickly messaged the person about where the Jaria Diamond could be found before checking his most recent e-mail. Sherlock's eyes narrowed and growled when he saw who it was from. Sebastian Wilkes. Him and Wilkes had gone to Uni together, even stayed in the same building. Wilkes had been someone who Sherlock had thought would be a friend, would possibly understand him. They had seemed to get along quite well, until Sherlock deduced something he shouldn't have. And then Sebastian tormented him the rest of Uni.

Sebastian had been the one to drive him to cocaine. Had been the reason he had almost overdosed.

Sherlock mentally grabbed the memories that had bubbled up at Sebastian's name and shoved them back into their cage. He would be professional about this. He would not let his hatred for the man keep him from taking the case, should it prove to be interesting. As he read over the case (a break in at the bank with nothing stolen) John came back home loaded with bags. After assessing that John didn't need help, Sherlock went back to reading the e-mail. There was something that Sebastian wasn't telling him, because something about this case that wasn't making sense.

"Don't worry about me, I can manage." John assured him while carrying the bags into the kitchen and setting them down. "Is that my computer?"

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock informed the Omega as he sent an e-mail to Sebastian informing him to be expecting them within the hour.

"And, what, you couldn't be bothered to walk farther than my chair?" John asked half amused half annoyed. "It's password protected."

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours, not exactly Fort Knox." Sherlock told him. He heard John sigh just before he stormed over and slammed the laptop shut and took it away. Point taken. When John is in a bad mood, do not touch his stuff with out permission. Would John be willing to come with him to the bank when he was in such a bad mood? He needed to physically go to the bank and look at everything to see what was missing from the e-mail.

"Oh." John groaned in annoyance, cutting into Sherlock's thoughts. He glanced at the Omega from the corner of his eye and saw him going through the mail. "Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull." Sherlock told him. Sherlock made plenty of money to afford whatever John wanted, John only needed to ask. But he knew that John would never just _let_ Sherlock pay for everything and wanted to help, he was just that kind of Omega.

"Sherlock," John started nervously and Sherlock's heart lept, was John going to ask Sherlock to buy him something, because he would in a heart beat, "you know I'll pay you back, right?" That hurt, but at the same time, he didn't expect anything less from John. He was an independent person and Sherlock wouldn't change him for the world. "Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock announced shooting from his chair. He removed his coat and scarf from the closet, put them on, and then, without thought, grabbed John's coat. When he realized what he did, he acted as if it was on purpose and helped John into it before taking his hand and leading him out of the flat.

 **~Nine~**

"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank..." John joked looking around the posh bank that Sebastian worked at. Hearing John joking again made a weight fall off Sherlock's shoulders. John was happy again. It would seem a case was the exact thing John needed. Sherlock smirked at him before looking around the bank as he lead John to the escalators. Multiple time zones. The Bank is open at all hours. Card swipes. Keeping tabs on who was coming and going. Elevators only went to the 42nd floor. Building is 42 stories. This was not some normal break in.

Once at the top of the escalators Sherlock lead John to the reception desk. The Beta woman there looked up, "Sherlock Holmes." He told her before she could question them. His eyes narrowed challengingly when her eyes drifted from him to John and stayed there just a second too long. The woman, at seeing his glare, quickly looked him up.

"Yes, Mr. Wilkes has been expecting you." She said. "I'll have someone show you to his office." Before Sherlock could deny the offer, another Beta, this time male, appeared next to them.

"Please follow me." He said before turning and walking away. Sherlock sighed, took John's wrist and followed the Beta. They were lead up another escalator to the elevator. In the elevator, the Beta pressed the button for the top floor. Whatever had happened happened on the top floor, not easy to get in and out unnoticed. Once at the top floor they were lead through a large room where most of the employees of the trading portion of the bank worked. There were only a handle full of offices lining the walls. "Mr. Wilkes will be with you in a moment." The Beta informed them as he ushered them into Sebastian's office before leaving. Sherlock lead John to a chair and gently pushed him into it.

"I'm fine standing." He argued, yet remained seated while Sherlock glanced around the room. Moments later Sebastian Wilkes, an annoying Alpha, walked in.

"Sherlock Holmes." He greeted sounding happy to actually see Sherlock. He was sure that the only reason Sebastian was happy to see him was because he was going to solve their break in without having to go to the police and cause a scandal.

"Sebastian." Sherlock greeted back.

"Hiya, buddy. How long has it been, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian said as he took a 'discreet' sniff of Sherlock. His eyes widened before looking at John and, not so discreetly, checked him out. Sherlock felt his hackles rise at that. His scent was clearly on John so there was no mistaking that John was off limits. But then, this was Sebastian who believed he had the right to everything and that if he wanted something he would be allowed to have it. Sherlock would just have to prove him wrong.

"This is my partner, John Watson." Sherlock introduced laying a possessive hand on John's shoulder, happy that the Omega didn't say anything about it. Sebastian gave him an unbelieving look.

"Partner? Really?" He challenged.

"Yes." John answered firmly, setting a hand on top of Sherlock's, silently claiming him. Sebastian raised a reprimanding brow at John. Sebastian never did like the idea of Omega's being out spoken and independent, he preferred them to be subservient and stay at home.

"Yes, well." Sebastian said tight-liped, obviously barely holding in a snide remark about John. He pulled at his suit collar, obviously uncomfortable with John in his work space. Sherlock caught a glimpse of his watch, two days off. Traveled around the world. Twice. "Grab a pew." He ordered Sherlock who bit back the urge to be childish and remain standing. "Do you need anything, coffee, water?" Sebastian asked John. Sherlock bared his teeth at the Alpha, John was _his_ to take care of.

"No." John said through clenched teeth. John did not _want_ to be taken care of as an Omega. Sherlock sat down and took John's hand, sending a silent message to Sebastian that John was off limits.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock stated causing Sebastian to smirk proudly.

"Well, so?" He asked.

"Flying all the way around the world twice in a month." Sherlock said. John looked at him ready and eager to hear the deductions.

"Right." Sebastian scoffed. "You're doing that thing." He was checking John out again with a condensing smile. "We were at Uni together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do." He was trying to put John off of him. To bad it would work. John _loved_ his deductions.

"It's not a trick." Sherlock growled out causing Sebastian to roll his eyes. Why had he accepted this case again?

"He could look to you and tell you your whole life story." Sebastian told John.

"I know. It's how we met. It really quite fascinating." John said smiling softly at Sherlock while squeezing his hand. Sherlock gave John as small wink before smirking at Sebastian who didn't seem to know how to react. It would seem he isn't used to being ignored by an Omega.

"Put the wind up everybody, we hated him." Sebastian growled out, trying to get John to pay attention to him. Sherlock's smirk widen and he sat up a little straighter. John didn't want any other Alpha, and Sherlock was going to make damn sure it staid like that. "We'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak-"

"I don't believe we're here for you to try and bully Sherlock, Mr Wilkes." John growled out shocking Sebastian. It was the first time an Omega dared to speak to him like that.

"Enlighten me, Sherlock, 'two trips a month, flying all the way around the world.'" Sebastian growled out ignoring John. That pissed John off. _No one_ pissed John off. "You're quite right. How could you tell? Are you going to tell me there's a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan?"

"No, I..." Sherlock started glancing at John when his hand began to tremble. John wanted to hurt Sebastian.

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes?" Sebastian continued with a taunting laugh.

"I was just chatting with your secretary outside." Sherlock said and John's hand stopped trembling. "She told me." John glanced at him with questioning eyes but remained silent about his lie. A tense and angry silence fell over them before Sebastian broke it with a forced laugh. Sherlock had pissed him off.

"Right. Down to business." Sebastian growled out. He wanted them both out of his office. "I'm glad you could make it over, we've had a break-in." He stood up and began leaving the room with out pausing to wait for them. "Sir William's office, the bank's former chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial." He explained while quickly leading them out of his office and through the main room to the biggest office on that floor. "Someone broke in late last night."

"What did they steal?" John asked.

"Nothing." Sebastian growled out hating talking to an Omega about this. "Just left a little message." They came to the office door and Sebastian had to use his keycard, that he already had out, to unlock it. Always kept locked. In the office two spray painted symbols were noticeable. One symbol was on the wall next to the portrait of the formal chairman, and the other symbol was across the eyes of the portrait.

"Show me the security footage." Sherlock ordered. This wasn't just any graffiti. It was a lot of trouble to get in here undetected just to graffiti a wall and portrait. Sebastian growled before turning and leading them back to his office, thankfully leaving the office unlocked and open. Once back in his office, Sebastian quickly signed into his computer and pulled up the security footage. The footage a was still frame taken every sixty seconds. And the culprit wasn't on any of the cameras.

"Sixty second apart." Sebastian pointed out switching between the frame without graffiti and the frame with graffiti. "So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting, but for that, we'll have to go back to the reception desk." Sebastian informed and Sherlock motioned for him to lead the way. And within minutes they were huddled around a computer behind the reception desk as Sebastian pulled up the security log. "Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?" Sherlock asked as Sebastian pulled up last night's logs to show that, no, the door had not opened at all the day before.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you, five figures." Sebastian said and Sherlock notice John trying not to look interested. He balled his hands at that and shoved them into his coat pockets, they were not that desperate for money. Sebastian pulled out a check and held it out for Sherlock to take. "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in. There's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." Sherlock growled out before storming away, he had a mystery to solve, and it wasn't how the person broke in. What Sherlock was more interested in was why? What were those symbols? Who were they for? And what did they mean?

Sherlock quickly made his way back up to the trading floor and into the chairman's office and took pictures of the symbols. As he was taking the pictures, he took note of the balcony. He didn't recall seeing that as one of the many doors being monitored. Sherlock opened the balcony door and stepped out onto it. They were on the top floor. It would be difficult to climb up to the balcony. Difficult, but not impossible. Especially if they climbed from another balcony.

Sherlock quickly reentered the office, shut the balcony door and exited the office though the door. He shut the office door, it locked automatically. Now, it was time to see where on this floor someone could easily see the symbols. He began going up and down the cubicles. But either a screen or pillar was blocking the symbols from view. And then, in an office off to the side, he found the perfect view, the only view, that allowed him to see both symbols clearly. Whatever those symbols were, they meant for the owner of this office.

On the door of the office Sherlock found the nameplate 'Edward Van Coon' (worked the Hong Kong trade) and took it. He needed to speak with this Van Coon as soon as possible. He had all that he needed here. It was time to leave and find Van Coon.

Sherlock quickly located John patiently waiting for him by the elevators. "Let's go, John." He said taking him gently by the wrist and lead him into the elevators. The ride down was silent as Sherlock began to try and figure out the puzzle. When the door opened him and John exited and began heading for the first set of escalators.

"Two trips around the world this month." John said obviously curious how he deduced that out. Sherlock smirked at him. "You didn't ask his secretary, you said that just to irritate him."

"He made you mad." Sherlock told him softly.

"Thanks." John whispered after taking a second to understand what Sherlock meant by that. "So, how did you know?"

"Did you see his watch?" Sherlock asked taking John by the hand as they got off the first escalator and began to walk towards the second one.

"What about it?" John asked.

"The time was right, but the date was wrong. It was set two days ago. Crossed the date line twice and he didn't alter it." Sherlock informed as they stepped onto the second escalator.

"Within a month? How did you get that part?" John asked.

"New Breitling. Only came out this February." Sherlock said and smirked when John breathed out his amazement.

"Do you need to sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked.

"Got everything I need to know. That graffiti was a message." Sherlock told him. "Someone at the bank, working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and..."

"They'll lead us to the person who sent it." John finished.

"Obvious." Sherlock pointed out.

"So, out of 300 people, I'm sure you were able to narrow it down. So, who is it meant for?" John asked and Sherlock smirked at him.

"Pillars." Sherlock told him as they reached the bottom of the last escalator. "Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course, the message was left at 11:34 last night. That tells us a lot." He explained as they exited the bank.

"Does it?" John asked.

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for somebody who came in at midnight." Sherlock pointed out as he pulled out the name plate and handed it to John. "Not many Van Coons in the phone book. Taxi!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten-**

John was quickly becoming used to the idea that Sherlock was rarely wrong, if ever. It had taken Sherlock less than a minute to look up the correct Van Coon and where he lived. Five minutes after Sherlock found the address they were standing in front of a very posh apartment building in the middle of London. But, after Sherlock had buzzed Van Coon twice with no answer, John feared they had reached a dead end. They couldn't enter the building without either a key or being buzzed in.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked starting to lightly shiver from the cold. Sherlock, who was looking around them, gently pulled John to him causing him to blush. John didn't think he would ever get used to Sherlock showing him affection, it just didn't seem to go with him. He hadn't known Sherlock very long, but in his mind the words 'Sherlock' and 'affection' just did not mesh. And yet, Sherlock was constantly showing John some kind of affection, be it by holding his hand, wrapping an arm around him, or hugging him close.

"Just moved in?" Sherlock stated confusing John.

"What?" John asked.

"Floor above, new label." Sherlock pointed out and John looked at the label. Sherlock was right, it was a new label, but what about it made Sherlock so sure it was new, it could have just been replaced, and he told Sherlock that who shook his head and buzzed the person. "No one ever does that."

"Hello?" A woman asked cautiously as Sherlock smiled into the little Camera attached to her the buzzer.

"Hi, um, we live in the flat just below you." Sherlock lied sounding slightly embarrassed. "I don't think we've met."

"No." The woman said, sounding slightly more curious than cautious. "Well, er, I've just moved in." Sherlock looked away nodding before looking back at the camera with a sheepish look.

"Actually, we've just locked our keys in the flat." Sherlock told her.

"Do you want me to buzz you in?" The woman asked.

"Yeah. And can I use your balcony?" Sherlock asked dropping his act.

"What?" The woman asked and John knew that if they were going to get her to let them in, he would need to jump in.

"Yes, you see, neither of us have our keys on us. Stupid us, I know. But we were in a hurry." John told her. "But even though our door is locked, I know I left the balcony unlocked. If my mate could just drop from your balcony onto ours, then he could let me in."

"I don't know." The woman muttered.

"I know it will work, we used to have to do this all the time when we first moved in." John reassured her. It was silent from her side of the intercom for a long minute as John held his breath hoping she believed them and let them in.

"I guess if you're sure." She said slowly before buzzing them in. Sherlock took John by the hand and whisked them into the building before John could even thank her. They quickly located the elevators and called one, thankfully they didn't have to wait long. On Van Coon's floor John exited the elevator and quickly located the right door. He stood there for what felt like an eternity waiting for Sherlock to let him in. Had he fallen? Was he having to pick the lock? Did Sherlock even know how to pick a lock.

Movement on the other side of the door caught John's attention. Had Sherlock made it safely into the building? Or was Van Coon actually home? Hoping that it was Sherlock and not Van Coon, John rung the door bell. "Sherlock?" He called out. What was taking him so long to let him in? John couldn't hear any signs of a scuffle so Sherlock wasn't fighting anyone. "Sherlock, are you okay?" He asked when he didn't receive an answer from the Alpha. "Sherlock, if you can hear me, please let me in." John sucked in a breath when he caught what sounded like something crashing open. Was he actually fighting with someone?

"Don't touch anything." Sherlock ordered as he opened the door. "This is now a crime scene." And then the Alpha pulled out his phone and called Lestrade.

 **~Ten~**

John stood over the dead body of Edward Van Coon. Van Coon had been an Alpha and, from the evidence, had taken his own life. John didn't miss the fact that had he not met Sherlock weeks ago, this would have been him. John took a shaky breath as Sherlock returned to the room slipping on forensic gloves. "Do you think he lost a lot of money? I mean suicide is pretty common among the city boys." He said only to receive a hard look from Sherlock. Had he said something wrong? Statistically, speaking, people who live closer to the middle of London do take their lives more than those who don't.

"We don't know that it was suicide." Sherlock told him, annoyed. John looked at him in shock, what did he mean by that. The evidence clearly pointed to suicide. What was it that Sherlock was seeing that stated other wise?

"But the evidence." John stated weakly. "You said that the bedroom door was locked form the inside, and you had to clime down the balcony just to get in." He said watching Sherlock open a suitcase and began rummage through it.

"Been away three days judging by the laundry." Sherlock deduced before looking over at John who had yet to move from his spot next to the bed. "Look at the case, there was something tightly packed inside it." Sherlock ordered but John was still stuck on the fact that Sherlock didn't believe it was a suicide because no matter how hard he tried, he could not find anything that said other wise. "John." He said with a small growl pulling John's attention back to the Alpha.

"I'll take your word for it." John muttered weakly causing concern to flash through Sherlock's eyes.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked taking a step closer to him.

"How can it not be suicide?" John asked. Sherlock sighed before turning his attention away form John to the Alpha on the bed, the poor Beta woman who was taking pictured of the crime scene having to scurry out of his way.

"Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?" Sherlock asked as he began to examine the body.

"As some sort of code?" John asked.

"Obviously." Sherlock muttered. "Why were they painted? Want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"

"Maybe he wasn't answering." John suggested.

"Oh, good you follow." Sherlock said as he begun digging around Van Coon's pockets.

"Barely." John muttered causing Sherlock to glance at him before he began to examine Van Coon's fingers.

"What kind of a message would everyone try to avoid?" Sherlock hinted at trying to help John come to the same conclusion Sherlock had already come to. "What about this morning? Those letters you were looking at?"

"Bills?" John asked. What did bills have anything to do with this? John's eyes widened when Sherlock suddenly pulled something black and papery from Van Coon's mouth. And, unless Van Coon had placed that in his mouth before shooting himself, then Sherlock was right that this was not a suicide.

"Yes. He was being threatened." Sherlock told him examining the (was that origami?) newly acquired evidence before grabbing an evidence bag from the Beta forensic woman, and bagged it. The smell of another Alpha entered the room seconds before Sherlock straightened up, attention on the new Alpha. John turned to look at the Alpha. He was taller than John yet still slightly shorter than Sherlock with short, dark brown hair and annoyed eyes.

"Sergeant, we haven't met." Sherlock said offering his hand for the Alpha to take.

"Yeah, I know who you are and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." The Alpha growled out, staking his claim of the area. John saw Sherlock's eyes narrow at the challenge. The two Alpha's staid glaring at each other for a minute before Sherlock slowly handed the evidence bag to the other Alpha. Yet, even though he had handed the bag over, John could tell that Sherlock was not giving in nor bowing out, he was just bidding his time before he struck back.

"I phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?" Sherlock asked in a guarded voice.

"He's busy. I'm in charge." The Alpha growled out at him while baring his teeth. Though John wanted to cut into the duel between the two Alpha's, John knew that he shouldn't. When two Alpha's fought over territory it was unwise to interfere, you could be seriously hurt or mounted and publicly mated if you were an Omega like John. "And it's not Sergeant, it's Detective Inspector Dimmok." And then Dimmok's eyes were on John causing Sherlock to growl and pull him close. Dimmok gave his own growl before he turned and left the room. Sherlock seemed to take a few seconds to collect himself before he lead John after Dimmok.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide." Dimmok informed his team who were documenting any evidence in the rest of the apartment.

"I guess that's true if you ignore some evidence." John muttered as Sherlock released him to pace angrily.

"John is right. Suicide is one possible explanation of some of the facts." Sherlock stated and John had to bite his lip to stop the smile that threatened to appear on his face. They were at a crime scene, it was not proper to smile at a crime scene, no matter how amazing Sherlock's deduction skills were. "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it." Sherlock growled at Dimmok who growled back.

"Like?" The Detective demanded.

"The wound's on the right side of his head." Sherlock pointed out.

"And?" The Detective questioned.

"Van Coon was left-handed." Sherlock stated before trying to contort himself as he mimicked trying to shoot himself with his left hand on the right side of his head. "Requires quite a bit of contortion." He taunted.

"Left-handed?" The Detective asked confused.

"I'm amazed you didn't notice, all you have to do is look around this flat." Sherlock said with a mocking smirk. "Coffee table on the left-hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. Need I go on?"

"Please." John breathed out without thought only to blush when Sherlock winked at him.

"No, I think you've covered it." Dimmok growled out.

"Oh, I might as well, I'm almost at the bottom of the list." Sherlock purred out, eyes never leaving John's as he pointed to the kitchen. "There's a knife on the bread board with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left." Sherlock turned to glare at Dimmok. "It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion, someone broke in here and murdered him, only explanation of all the facts."

"But the gun-" Dimmock growled out.

"He was waiting for the killer." Sherlock interrupted him with annoyance clear in his voice. "He'd been threatened."

"What?" The Detective asked as Sherlock stormed over to his coat and scarf.

"Today at the bank, sort of a warning." John told the Detective carefully, not knowing if the duel was over or not as Sherlock began to put his scarf on.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock informed as he slipped his coat on.

"And the bullet?" Dimmok asked, his tone clearly stating he didn't believe Sherlock.

"Went through the open window." Sherlock explained as he put on his gloves.

"Oh, come on." The Detective scoffed as Sherlock returned to John's side ready to venture out once more. "What are the chances of that?"

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun, I guarantee it." Sherlock said before taking John by the wrist and began to lead him out of the apartment.

"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?" Dimmok called after them.

"Good, you're finally asking the right questions." Sherlock said before slamming the door shut. Without a word, Sherlock lead him back to the elevators and entered them. In the elevator, John gently removed Sherlock's fingers from around his wrist (they were starting to hurt) before slipping his hand into Sherlock's larger one and gave him a comforting squeeze.

"I don't like him." John told him causing Sherlock to chuckle as the elevator got to the ground floor.

"Hungry?" Sherlock asked.

"Starving." John told him with a smirk.

"Alright. We have one more stop before we can go home and get you something to eat."

 **~Ten~**

John did not expect their 'one more stop' to be a high class restaurant in the middle of London. And had Sherlock not just told him that they would be going home to eat he would have thought Sherlock had brought him here to eat. Just the very thought of eating at a place like this had John itching to leave the restaurant. He knew that most Omega's loved to be pampered by their Alpha's and going to fancy restaurants like this, but not John. John would rather be in their dingy, yet still very homey, flat eating take-out and watching crap telly.

"It was a threat, that's what the graffiti meant." Sherlock informed Sebastian after having lead John (by hand) to the Alpha's table. John quickly took note of the four men sitting at the table they were standing next to, all but one of the men were Alphas, the other was a Beta.

"I'm kind of in a meeting. You can make an appointment with my secretary." Sebastian told Sherlock condescendingly causing the other three men to laugh as if Sebastian had just told a joke. John caught one of the Alphas checking him up and down before winking at him pissing him off. Just because he was broken and could not conceive did not mean he was some plaything for any and all Alpha's looking to get their rock's off without any consequences. John went to punch the Alpha, but before his could, he was suddenly flush up against Sherlock's side as he growled loudly at the Alpha who had hit on him, gaining the attention of everyone else in the restaurant.

"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian." Sherlock growled out, turning to glare at him. "One of your traders, someone who worked in your office, was killed."

"What?" Sebastian asked.

"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." John growled out, he wanted this conversation to be done and over with so that they could leave and return home.

"Killed?" Sebastian asked.

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestions." Sherlock said sarcastically. "Still want to make an appointment? Would maybe 9:00 at Scotland Yard suit?" Sebastian nervously tugged at his collar before getting up and heading towards the restroom with them close behind. Sebastian began to wash his hands and John leaned against the counter and glared at him waiting to hear what he had to say, while Sherlock stood in front of the door to keep him from leaving until he was done with him.

"Harrow, Oxford. Very bright guy." Sebastian started. "Worked in Asia for a while, so..."

"You gave him the Hong Kong accounts." John stated the obvious receiving a look from the Alpha that was silently telling him to 'keep his Omega mouth shut' causing both John and Sherlock to growl at him.

"Lost five million in a single morning, made it all back a week later." Sebastian growled out. "Nerves of steel, Eddie had."

"Who'd want to kill him?" John asked, letting Sebastian know that he would not stay quiet.

"We all make enemies." Sebastian told him through clenched teeth.

"We don't all end up with a bullet through your temple." John pointed out as Sebastian's mobile alerted him of a message.

"Not usually. Excuse me." Sebastian said pulling out his phone to read the message. "It's my chairman. Police have been on to him." Sebastian looked up at Sherlock with a smirk. "Apparently they're telling him it was suicide."

"Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered." Sherlock told him causing Sebastian's smirk to widen.

"Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that. And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get sidetracked." He ordered before shoving Sherlock out of the way and exited the bathroom.

"I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards." John joked angrily before they, too, left the bathroom, only they didn't go back to the table like Sebastian, they left the restaurant completely.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven-**

John smiled at the young Beta woman that sat across from him as she had read over his resume. She was a pretty little thing. Light brown hair that was pulled back in a messy, falling apart bun, and wide, watery honey brown eyes. He was slightly shocked that she hadn't turned him away the moment he had stepped into the interview, like so many other people had done. She had even smiled warmly at him and offered a hand for him to shake. "Just locum work." She told him after skimming through the resume.

"No, that's fine." John told her politely. He raised an eyebrow when she blushed and checked him over. He had to have imagined that, he was broken. No one wanted a broken Omega. Well, no one other than Sherlock.

"You're, um..." She stuttered glancing back at his resume. "Well, you're a bit over-qualified." John refused to believe that her tone had taken a more flirtatious vibe.

"Um, I could always do with the money." He told her with a polite smile, making her blush darker. She was just warm, the room did feel a tad bit warm.

"Well, we've got two away on holiday this week and one's left to have a baby." She squeaked out tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. John looked at her wondering what she was meaning by that. "It might be a bit mundane for you." That caused John to chuckle. Having something mundane to ground you every now and then was good when you were with Sherlock.

"Um, no, mundane is good, sometimes." He told her, smiling warmly as he thought of Sherlock sitting back at home trying to figure out what those symbols meant. "Mundane works."

"It says here you were a soldier." She said, the look in her eyes and the tone in her voice made John slightly uncomfortable. She was definitely flirting with him. But why? Why now?

"And a doctor." He told her preying she didn't hear the nervous tone in his voice, and if she did that she believed it was him being nervous of getting the job or not.

"Anything else you can do?" She asked, fluttering her eyes at him. John shook his head and she smiled at him. "Well, welcome a board, John."

After getting his schedule for his shifts, John quickly left the small clinic and high tailed it back home wondering if he should tell Sherlock about the Beta or not. The Alpha was already busy trying to solve this case, the most interesting case they've had since the 'Study in Pink' as he had dubbed their first case together, and John didn't want to distract Sherlock from The Work, as Sherlock dubbed it. With that decided, John spent the rest of the journey home trying to erase every trace of his distress over being flirted with from his mind and body. It wouldn't do for Sherlock to deduce it and throw a fit.

"I said could you pass me a pen?" Sherlock growled the second he had stepped into the flat causing John to pause.

"What? When?" John asked wondering if he had missed hearing him, but that was impossible, he had literally just got in.

"About an hour ago. Where were you?" Sherlock asked checking him over from the corner of his eye. And unlike when the Beta had checked him out, Sherlock's gaze relaxed him.

"How long did it take you to notice I'd gone out?" John asked with a small smile as he found a pin and tossed it to Sherlock who caught it and went back to staring at the pictures of the symbols that he had printed out and pinned to the wall. Sherlock not answering him alerted John that it was longer than the Alpha wanted to admit. "I went to see about a job at that surgery." John informed him, even though he had told this to Sherlock before he left. However, the Alpha obviously didn't remember him telling him, nor did he remember responding with a grunt.

"How was it?" Sherlock asked.

"Great." John said hoping Sherlock didn't deduce anything that had happened during the interview.

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked never taking his eyes off the pictures.

"Huh?" John asked.

"Who made you uncomfortable?" Sherlock asked and John sighed causing the Alpha to finally look at him. "The interviewer." Sherlock began to deduce. "Beta, woman, young. Said something you didn't like."

"It's nothing, Sherlock." John told him half hoping he would stop the other hoping he would continue.

"She flirted with you." Sherlock growled.

"It was harmless." John tried to defend.

"It's my scent." Sherlock suddenly said confusing him. "My scent is covering up the scent of your damaged womb." John froze at that. How long had Sherlock known about his womb? How long had he planed to keep the fact that he knew about his womb a secret before this slipped out. Oh, John knew Sherlock hadn't meant to let slip he had known about the womb from the slight widening of the Alpha's eyes after he had said it. Suddenly Sherlock was up, out of his seat and standing in front of him arms out as it to grab John, yet refusing to actually touch him as if scared of John's reaction to being touched. "John, I- I don't care-" Sherlock started.

"How long?" John demanded hoarsely.

"Since our first meeting." Sherlock told him quietly. John gave a humorless laugh at that. Of course Sherlock had known since then. Probably deduced it the same time he deduced everything else about him. A thought cut into his fear. Sherlock had known all along that it was his damaged womb that made him broken, and still wanted to be with him. Going so far as to break the vow he had made himself to never take a Mate. John stepped forward and rested his forehead on Sherlock's chest. "John, I just want you to know, I don't care if your womb is damage. It's not your womb I'm interested in, it's you." Sherlock whispered to him as he wrapped his arms around John.

"So, tell me what you've deduced about the case." John told him.

"Right, have a look." Sherlock said releasing him before gently pushing him to the computer (John's) that was open and had an article pulled up.

"'The intruder who can walk through walls.'" John read out loud.

"It happened last night." Sherlock informed him. "Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon."

"Dear God!" John exclaimed as he realized what Sherlock was saying. "You think-"

"He's killed another one." Sherlock confirmed with a sigh as he stared at the pictures. John wondered what Sherlock was seeing, but figured when Sherlock was this far into his thoughts that the Alpha wouldn't want to be bothered by John asking him what he was seeing. With a sigh, John turned and started walking into the kitchen to make them both a cuppa only to freeze when Sherlock jumped from his seat and grabbed the computer. "Come John, we have somewhere to be."

 **~Eleven~**

That somewhere, it turned out, was the Scotland Yard. Sherlock led John into the building as if he owned it, ignoring all the dirty looks he was receiving. At first John was sure Sherlock was going to go to Lestrade and demand he take the case over from Dimmok. However, when they passed Lestrade's office and just went straight to Dimmok, John wondered what Sherlock was going to do. Sherlock placed the computer on Dimmok's desk and quickly logged into it.

"Brian Lukis, freelance journalist, murdered in his flat. Doors locked from the inside." Sherlock told the Detective before turning the computer around to show him the article.

"You've got to admit, it's similar. Both man killed by someone who can walk through solid walls." John pointed out.

"Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide?" Sherlock asked and Dimmok looked away causing Sherlock to growl out a sigh of annoyance. "You have seen the ballistics' reports, I suppose?" Dimmok nodded. "And the shot that killed him, was it fired form his own gun?"

"No." Dimmok said.

"No." Sherlock agreed. "So this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel." Dimmok looked away again in annoyance. "I've just handed you a murder inquiry. Five minutes in his flat." The two Alpha's glared at each other for a minute before Dimmok sighed and stood up.

"Five minutes." The Detective growled out before leading them back out of the building. Dimmok turned and headed to the car park while Sherlock hailed a taxi. "Are you not coming?"

"We'll follow you." John told him as Sherlock gently pushed him into the taxi. However, they didn't follow Dimmok, they led him to the crime scene. And Sherlock wasted no time in slipping under the tape and up the stairs with John and Dimmok close behind him.

"Flour floors up." Sherlock muttered looking out the window after glancing around the room. "That's why they think they're safe." He went back to examining the room. "Put a chain across the door, bolt it shut, think your impregnable. They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in." He said before walking out of the room and over to to the skylight in the hall.

"I don't understand." Dimmok said.

"We're dealing with a killer who can climb." Sherlock told him as he opened the skylight.

"What are you doing?" Dimmok asked.

"Clings to walls like an insect." Sherlock continued deducing, ignoring the Detective. "That's how he got in." He said looking out the skylight to the roof.

"What?" Dimmok demanded.

"He climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof, dropped in through this skylight." Sherlock informed them.

"You're not serious? Like Spider-Man?" The Detective scoffed.

"He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building," Sherlock growled at him, "jumped the balcony and killed Van Coon."

"Oh, hold on!" Dimmok hissed back.

"And of course that's how he got into the bank. He'd run along within the ledge and onto the terrace." Sherlock told him before shoving past the Detective and began to search the room once more. "I have to find out what connects these two men." Sherlock suddenly bent down and picked up a book that had been thrown on the stairs. "John, let's go." Was his only warning before Sherlock ran out of the house.

John sighed and chased after him to find he already had a taxi waiting, how the Alpha always managed to get a taxi amazed him. Sherlock had obviously already told the cabbie where to go, because the second John shut the door behind him, they were off. John was curious as to where they were going, but kept that question to himself after seeing Sherlock deep in thought. John's question was answered when they pulled up to the West Kensington Library. John followed Sherlock into the building and to the second floor.

"Date stamped on the book is the same day that he died." Sherlock told him as they began to search for the shelf the book had come from. They easily found the shelf and Sherlock pulled out another copy of the book and began to flip through it while John scanned the neighboring shelf waiting for Sherlock to find whatever clue he needed. John pulled out a thick book intending to flip through it only to spot what he thought looked like paint on the back of shelf and began to pull out hand fulls off books.

"Sherlock." John called once he had relieved the very same graffiti that had been in the bank.

 **~Eleven~**

"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher at the bank." Sherlock began thinking out loud the second they had entered their flat as John made his way over to the wall, eyes roaming over every picture and clue they had. Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in. Hours later, he dies."

"The killer finds Lukis at the library," John began slowly, his mind trying to race to get to where Sherlock's mind was, "he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen. Lukis goes home."

"Late that night, he dies too." Sherlock finished coming to stand next to him.

"Why did they die, Sherlock?" John asked, hoping that Sherlock had figured it out already. Sherlock shook his head before tapping his finger on the picture of the first cipher.

"Only the cipher can tell us." Sherlock told him with a sigh. They stood there, both silent and eyes running over every clue they had. Out of nowhere, a stabbing pain in his lower abdomen caused John to suck in a sharp breath causing Sherlock to look at him. "John?"

"I'm fine, Sherlock, I think I'm just hungry." John reassured him with a smile forcing himself to forget about the pain. It was well into the late afternoon, and he hadn't had anything but some toast for breakfast that morning, having been too nervous about his interview.

"I see." Sherlock said turning back towards the wall and John thought that was the end of that conversation. John bit back a grunt as the pain flared again and began to turn to head into the kitchen to get him something to snack on while Sherlock pulled out his phone and texted someone. Sherlock spun on the balls of his feet away from the wall and quickly made his way to the coat closet without a word. John sighed, it seems they were leaving again. John allowed Sherlock to quickly bundle him into his coat before following the Alpha out of their flat.

Outside Sherlock quickly hailed a cab and ordered the cabbie to take them to the National Gallery. John slid into the back of the cab ignoring the pain in his lower abdomen when it flared once more. The ride to the gallery was quick, as soon Sherlock was gently leading him by the hand through the crowd of both Londoners and tourists. "Once we're through here, we'll get you something to eat." Sherlock told him with a sigh as the pain flared once more causing John to squeeze Sherlock's hand.

"How are we going to figure out that cipher?" John asked, not wanting to distract Sherlock from The Work.

"The world runs on codes and ciphers." Sherlock began and John smiled. "From the million pound security system at the bank to the pin machine you took exception too. Cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

"Yes, okay, but..." John started.

"But it's all computer-generated, " Sherlock finished leading John up the stairs to the National Gallery, "electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it." Instead of going into the National Gallery like John expected, Sherlock began to lead him to the side of the building.

"Where are we headed?" John asked.

"I need to ask some advice." Sherlock informed him, shocking John.

"What? Sorry?" John asked. Sherlock needed advice? His Sherlock was unsure of something that he needed advice? John felt Sherlock's grip on his hand tighten.

"You heard me perfectly." Sherlock growled out angrily. "I'm not saying it again." Why was Sherlock suddenly angry? Did he not like the fact that he needed advice? But he had been just fine until he had informed John of this fact. Was Sherlock angry at himself for needing help? Did he think that John would look at him differently now?

"It must not be very often that you need advice." John told him with a soft smile when the Alpha glanced at him. His smile widened when Sherlock relaxed.

"So we need advice?"

"On painting. Yes, I need to talk to an expert." Sherlock informed him as they made it to the back of the building where and young Omega male was spray painting the back door. Sherlock stopped beside the young man and John couldn't help admiring the painting. It was a very detailed painting of a cop holding a rifle.

"Part of my new exhibition." The young man said without looking away from the painting or even to stop spray painting.

"Interesting." Sherlock drawled as he released John's hand to reach into his pocket to pull out a his phone.

"I call it..." The young man paused in spray painting to take a step back and look at his Sherlock with a flirtatious smirk, "Urban Bloodlust Frenzy." John glared at the young Omega and stepped closer to Sherlock. It didn't seem to matter to John that Sherlock hadn't even seemed to notice the flirtation as he scrolled through his phone. All that mattered to John right now was that he had seen the Young Omega flirting with his Alpha, and John needed to put him in his place.

"Catchy." John growled out receiving an eye roll from the young man before the Omega went back to spray painting.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes around that corner." The young man informed them. "Can we do this while I'm working?" Sherlock handed the young Omega his phone, the young man tossed one of his spray cans to John to automatically caught it. It took all of John's will power to keep himself from smashing the spray can into the young Omega's face when he took it, fingers brushing along Sherlock's gloved fingers. Who did that Omega thing he was touching Sherlock like that!

"Know the author?" Sherlock asked gently taking the spray can from John's hands and tossing it into the bag full of spray cans next to the young Omega's feet before taking John's hand into his. The feeling of Sherlock's larger hand against his calmed him down just enough. John looked at Sherlock who was watching the young Omega with a bored look and the young man flipped through the pictures.

"I recognize the paint." He told them. "It's like Michigan hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc." The young Omega said looking up from the phone to stare at John and Sherlock's clasped hands with a blank look.

"And what about the symbols? Do you recognize them?" Sherlock asked the young Omega sighed before looking back at the pictures.

"I'm not even sure it's a proper language." He told Sherlock with a smirk causing Sherlock growl at him in annoyance.

"Two men have been murdered, Raz. Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them." Sherlock told him. Raz looked from the phone to at both Sherlock and John in disbelief.

"And this is all you've to to go on? It's hardly much now, is it?" Raz said tossing the phone back at Sherlock who easily caught it just as John had to bite back a pain filled groan as the pain flared once more.

"Are you going to help up or not?" Sherlock growled glaring at Raz.

"I'll ask around." Raz told Sherlock.

"Somebody must know something about it." Sherlock said.

"Oi!" Someone yelled, alerting everyone that their two minutes were up Sherlock tightened his grip on John's hand before taking off away form the officer, taking John with him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 -**

John sighed as he finished eating his meal that Sherlock had had delivered from Angilos the second they had gotten back to the house, while watching Sherlock pace in front of the fireplace while skimming a book on languages in his hand. Sherlock growled in annoyance and slammed the book closed.

"This symbol, I still can't place it." Sherlock glared at the wall of clues before spinning on the balls of his feet. "You had your fill?" He asked. "Good." He continued not giving John time to answer verbally. "I need you to go to the police station and ask about the journalist," He said pulling John from his seat, a surge of annoyance flew through John for a second before leaving, "his personal effects would've been impounded." Sherlock informed him as he slipped John coat onto him. "Get hold of his diary or something that will tell us his movements."

"What will you be doing?" John asked when he noticed Sherlock putting on his own coat.

"I'll go and see Van Coon's PA." Sherlock told him. "If we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide." They had made it outside, Sherlock pulled John close to peck him on the lips before he turned and walked away without a word. The annoyance returned as John tried to get a taxi and three open taxis passed him by before he was finally able to get one to stop, all the while feeling as if someone was watching him.

"Scotland Yard." John told the cabby before slipping into the back, catching a woman in black recording him, however, when he tried to get a better look at her before the taxi took off, she vanished.

 **~Twelve~**

"Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team." Van Coon's PA read off the Van Coon's schedule.

"Can you print me up a copy?" Sherlock asked.

"Sure." The PA said before setting about having the schedule printed.

"What about the day he died? Can you tell me where he was?" Sherlock asked pointed at the empty space on the calendar that happened to the very day he needed.

"Sorry, I've got a gap." The PA told him causing Sherlock to bite back a growl. "I have all his receipts." She told him quickly, obviously having seen his annoyance, before leading him back to her desk where she showed him the box with all of Van Coon's receipt.

"What kind of boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" Sherlock asked, eyes roaming over her desk, taking in everything. A luxury hand cream.

"Um, no. That's not a word I'd use." She told him nervously as she pulled out every receipt for the day Van Coon had died. "The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag."

"Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?" Sherlock asked as he began to go through the receipts she had laid out. Taxi Receipt for 18.50 at 10:35. "Look at this one." He handed the taxi receipt to her, and she took it nervously. "Got a taxi from home on the day he died, £18.50."

"That would get him to the office." Amanda said, confused.

"Not rush hour. Check the time." He informed her as he continued to look through the receipts looking for the one the would put him at that time for that amount. "Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as..."

"The West End." Amanda informed him. "I remember him saying." A London Underground receipt.

"Underground, printed at one in Piccadilly." Sherlock told her showing her the receipt.

"So he got a Tube back to the office?" She asked. "Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?"

"Because he was delivering something heavy." Sherlock muttered. "You wouldn't lug a package up the escalator."

"Delivering?" She asked.

"To somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it, and then . . ." A receipt for Piazza Espresso Bar Italiano. "Stopped on his way. He got peckish."

 **~Twelve~**

John glared at Detective Dimmok as he slowly searched through the evidence box that contained the Journalist's stuff. He was on edge, every little thing was pissing him off. The cabby's voice as he drove him to the Yard. The sunlight whenever it decided to peek around the clouds. The Scotland Yard building itself pissed John off. The scents of everyone in the building mingling together pissed John off, and even gave him a headache. The fact that everyone decided to speak loudly (not exactly yelling but not exactly using their inside voices either) pissed John off and made his headache worse.

"You're friend..." Detective Dimmok started.

"Stop right there. I am in no mood to hear someone bad mouth Sherlock. Yes, he can be annoying. Yes, he is full of himself. And yes, he's smarter than you lot. Now, can you hurry up and just give me his damn journal." John snapped out shocking the Alpha.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Dimmok bit out. "The journalist's diary?" John took the diary from the Alpha and flipped through it until he found the page he needed, which also happened to be bookmarked by plane ticket for Dalian.

"I'll be borrowing this." John said before rushing out of the Yard and began to follow the Journalist's day as it was written in the diary.

 **~Twelve~**

"So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station," Sherlock muttered as he walked from the station, passing by the restaurant, on his way to figure out where the package had been dropped off at, "but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you?"

"Damn it!" A familiar voice growled out as Sherlock, who was busy looking around, bumped into them. John's scent filled his nose when he breathed it, but something was wrong, John's scent was slightly off. It wasn't wrong, just very distracting. The fact that John's scent had changed even the slightest made Sherlock want to bury his nose in John's hair and... well he didn't know. "Right, I know how into your Work you can get, but can you a least _try_ to pay attention to your surroundings when you walk?" John snapped at him alerting Sherlock that John was pissed.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing." John snapped out. Sherlock forced himself not to continue questioning John.

"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died. Whatever was hidden inside that case... I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information. Credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China then he came here." Sherlock noticed as he continued talking the more annoyed John seemed to be getting.

"Stop talking." John snapped out causing Sherlock to snap his mouth closed. "It's that shop, over there." He said pointing across the road to a souvenir shop.

"How can you tell?" Sherlock asked confused.

"Lukis' Diary. He was here too. He wrote down the address." John told him before walking across the street.

"Oh." Sherlock said before following John into the building.

"Hello." John said, nodding to the elderly woman at the register. Sherlock's eyes ran over everything trying to find any clue to why the package would have been dropped off here.

"You want lucky cat?" The elderly woman called out to them.

"No, thanks, no." John told her, anger barely hidden in his voice catching Sherlock's attention. Why was his John so angry? Had Detective Dimmok said or done something to him?

"£10! £10!" The woman pushed and Sherlock caught John closing his eyes and breathing in deep to calm himself. "I think your wife, she will like."

"I'm not married, mated, or bonded." John snapped out as he, too, looked around. "Sherlock." Sherlock quickly made his way over to John, and wasn't able to stop himself from taking another deep sniff of John's scent. A strange sort of tingle began to form around his groin. "The label there."

"Yes, I see it." Sherlock told him softly.

"It's exactly the same as the cipher." John told him under his breath before clearing his throat. The cipher wasn't letters, it was numbers!

"Come along John, we're done here." Sherlock told him before gently taking John by the hand and leading him back out of the shop and back across the road.

"What is it?" John asked.

"It's an ancient number system, Hangzhou. These days only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library. Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect." Sherlock explained.

"It's a 15." John said as they stopped at a vendor along the road. "What we thought was the artist's tag, it's a number 15."

"And the blindfold, that horizontal line. That was a number as well." Sherlock told him showing him a tag with the same horizontal line on it. "The Chinese number one, John."

"We found it." John said with a smile as Sherlock continued down the road. Sherlock lead them to the same restaurant that Eddie Van Coon had stopped off at and ordered John a drink.

"Two men, travel back from China, both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium." John said sipping on his drink as Sherlock began to try to figure out what the numbers stood for, but the close quarters in which their table sat in caused John's scent to quickly surround him bringing that strange tingling sensation in around his groin to back stronger. "What did they see?"

"It's not what they saw." Sherlock muttered trying to keep himself focused on the case and not how delicious John was starting to smell. "It's what they both brought back in those suitcases."

"And you don't mean duty free." John said, from the corner of his eye, Sherlock caught three Alpha's and four Beta's eyeing his John up and down, this caused Sherlock to reach across the table and take John's hand, intertwining their fingers. A silent message that John was his.

"Think about what Sebastian told us. About Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the market." Sherlock said.

"Lost five million." John said nodding.

"Made it back in a week." Sherlock finished before nodding his head at the building across the street. "That's how he made such easy money."

"He was a smuggler, now why does that not surprise me?" John bit out with and eye roll.

"I reckon he would have been perfect." Sherlock muttered. "Businessman, making frequent trips to Asia. Lukis was the same, a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff about. The Lucky Cat was their drop-off."

"Then why did they die?" John asked. "It doesn't make sense, if the both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?"

"What if one of them was light-fingered?" Sherlock asked.

"How do you mean?" John asked.

"Stole something. Something form the hoard." Sherlock said.

"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it so he threatens them both. Right." John said. Sherlock looked out the window, ready to wait for John to finish his drink when he noticed a phone book sitting on a door step still in its package to keep it from being rained on.

"Remind me. When was the last time that it rained?" Sherlock asked before shooting from his seat, forcing John to do so too (causing John to spill his drink onto himself), and ran outside, pulling John with him. Sherlock didn't let go of John's hand until they were at the door the phone book sat at. Sherlock ran his thumb along the ruined pages from the whole in the packaging.

"It's been here since Monday." Sherlock muttered before standing up and ringing the doorbell, taking note of the name on the label: Soo Lin Yao. When no one answered Sherlock started down the alley to the back of the apartment with John following him. "No one's been in that flat for at least three days."

"Could have gone on holiday." A very annoyed John stated.

"Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" Sherlock asked once they had gotten to the back of the apartment nodding towards the open window as he backed up enough to get a running leap at the ladder. He easily climbed the ladder and made his way to the open window.

"Sherlock!" John hissed at him from the alley way. Too focused on the case, Sherlock continued into the apartment, knocking into a vase, but caught it before it could hit the ground, causing it to spill a bit of the water that was in it. A fresh puddle of water on the rug alerted Sherlock that he hadn't been the first one to enter through the window that day.

"Someone else had been here." Sherlock called out to John. "Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase, just like I did." Sherlock began to search the room, checking the laundry that was in the washer. Stale, been there since Monday. John began to ring the doorbell.

"Do you think maybe you could let me in this time?" John called out to him, having realized by now that the change in John's scent was too distracting right now and the fact that he really needed to focus at the moment, Sherlock chose to ignore John. "Can you not keep doing this, please?" John growled out. Sherlock checked the milk in the fridge, it had spoiled.

"I'm not the first!" Sherlock informed him.

"What?" John asked.

"Somebody's been in here before me!" Sherlock repeated.

"What are you saying?" John asked causing Sherlock to growl in annoyance. Was John purposefully not listening to get back at him for ignoring him or was he really not able to understand him? Either way, it was annoying. Focusing his attention back on searching for clues, Sherlock noticed an imprint of a foot in the rug.

"Size eight feet. Small, but athletic." The killer had been in the house. John rang the doorbell once more as Sherlock took note of a smudge on the glass of a picture frame. "Small, strong hands. Our acrobat. Why didn't he close the window when he left..." He was still in the house. "Oh, stupid, stupid! Obvious. He's still here." Where was he hiding? Behind the changing screen? Sherlock carefully walked over to the changing screen and looked behind it only to have something thrown around his throat.

"Any time you want to include me!" John called.

"John... John!" Sherlock gasped out. Help!

"'Oh, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with my massive intellect!'" John yelled angrily from outside. Ignoring him had definitely been a bad idea. Never ignore John. Ignoring John gets you strangled. Sherlock was starting to loose consciousness as the killer loosed his hold, put something in Sherlock's coat pocket, and left. Sherlock took a deep breath and coughed while forcing himself to get up. He checked his pocket to find the same black origami lotus flower that had been in Van Coon's mouth.

Once he had his breath again, Sherlock stumbled his way to the front door."The milk's gone off and the washing started to smell. Somebody left here in a hurry three days ago." Sherlock croaked out the second he opened the door. At hearing the state his voice was in, John's anger immediately faded only to be replaced with concern.

"Are you alright?" John asked rushing to help him stand.

"We have to find her." Sherlock told him.

"Who?" John asked.

"Soo Lin Yao." Sherlock told him with a cough.

"How?" John asked as Sherlock bent down to pick up a folded envelope.

 _'SooLin_

 _Please ring me._

 _Tell me you're okay._

 _Andy'_

Sherlock showed John the note before unfolding the envelope the see that it had come from the National Antiquities Museum. "We could start with this."


End file.
